An Innocent Enough Roll of Film
by Elsa007
Summary: With Phryne off to England, a pining Jack Robinson comes across a roll of film from a previous case - the Belinda Roswell case to be specific. Once developed he sees a whole different side to Phryne Fisher, but with oceans between them, disruptive parents, & impossibly dead bodies washing up on shore, they have along road ahead before they can start living happily ever after.
1. An Innocent Enough Roll of Film

"Detective Inspector!" Constable Avery called out his name and stuck his head through Jack's door, quite startling him. He had been wrapped up in his current case, rather sourly, he might add given the lack of a certain lady detective who _should_ have been perched on the edge of his desk but _instead_ was traipsing around England, kicking up her heels and surely forgetting about the lowly public servant pining away from her back home.

"Yes Constable?"

"Sorry for the interruption sir, but I was reorganizing some of Inspector Johnson's old case files for him and I found something that didn't belong. We tracked down the case number and it appears to belong in one of your case files. The murder of Belinda Roswell, I think." Ah yes. The tennis murder. What a case that had been again. Finding out that Phryne was afraid of spiders, the rush of emotion as Phryne leapt into his arms at the mere suggestion of arachnid involvement, the thoughts that had succeeded his view of Phryne's _internal device._ "Sir?" Jack had missed a question while he daydreamed away.

"Sorry, repeat that Constable?"

"What would you like me to do with the photos?"

"The photos?"

"Yes, sir. The evidence that ended up in Johnson's file, undeveloped photos." Jack's brow furrowed handsomely. There hadn't been an undeveloped roll of film from that case that he could remember. The only photos involved were in print. What on earth could that be?

"Yes, of course. Give them to me, will you? I'll take care of it." the young Constable set the roll on Jack's desk and left the office, closing the door. Jack eyed the roll confused. Sure enough, those were the proper numbers cataloged on the side, they belonged to the Roswell case. Jack looked closer. That wasn't, however, his handwriting. Was that? No. That couldn't be. Jack shuffled through the top drawer of his desk finding the letter that was never too far from him. Jack held the loopy handwriting of the letter up next to the cataloging on the item in question. "Well I'll be damned." He muttered under his breath. "Miss Fisher." It appeared he had done a bit of paperwork, poorly and the item in question had ended up in the wrong case but still. What had she taken from this case and why hadn't she ever told him about it? His curiosity got the better of him and he called his faithful constable in to his office.

"Collins!"

"Yes sir!"

"Have these developed will you? Part of an old case, just tying up loose ends." Collins nodded and took the film, leaving the office, hurrying to follow the instructions.

-X-

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson stared at the array of photos before him, pulling at his collar, suddenly finding the precinct a tad hot for his liking. What in the hell was this? Boudoir photos of _her_?! in ever increasing variations of undress? The first had seemed indecent enough, and then as soon as one could blink more and more of her appeared to the camera. Who had taken these?! When had they been taken?! _WHY_ had they been taken? How had they ended up in evidence? Thousands of questions filled Jack's head the most pressing of which was, Why are you so focused on where, when and why when you have half naked photos of the most beautiful woman God has ever created? Hastily shoving the photographs back into the envelope Collins had delivered them in (Collins! Had he seen them? Likely not given his state of calm and normalcy when he had brought them back-but still!) and tucked the manila envelope into his satchel. Something that personal, that private did not belong at a police station where any Tom, Dick or Harry could stumble upon them. A sliver of fiery anger shot through Jack as the image of his coworkers gathered around, leering at _her_ flashed briefly in his mind. No. He could not let that happen. These belonged somewhere far from prying eyes. Somewhere he could assure her of their safety. Perhaps that locked letter box by his bedside…

 **A/N: This is my first Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries Fic! Not sure if I will leave this a one shot or make it a tad longer and add Jack's…further reactions to the photos of Phryne;) If so this fic will probably end up being rated M but I shall warn you if I plan to go in that direction!**

 **Let me know what you think! The good, the bad, the ugly-tell me what you think of my fic, of my writing, or write about whatever you're thinking about but please please please review! XOXO~E**


	2. Telegrams

**A/N: So I guess I decided to do another chapter? I went back and saw some reviews that asked for one and this little idea popped into my head! I hope you like it! Please review!**

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

Miss Fisher STOP

Found photos from Belinda Roswell case STOP Please advise STOP

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson STOP

PS STOP Miss Williams would be scandalized STOP

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Detective Inspector Robinson STOP

Afraid I haven't the slightest idea to what you are referring STOP Perhaps a description of the photos would jog my memory STOP Advisement awaiting further discussion STOP

Hon. Phryne Fisher STOP

PS STOP She usually is STOP

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

.

Miss Fisher STOP

The photographs in question appear to exhibit my best Honorary Constable featured in an emerging art form STOP

Detective Inspector Robinson

PS STOP The images in question were no doubt a work of art but the paperwork and filing capabilities of that constable left quite a lot to be desired STOP Wouldn't want evidence of such a private nature to be circulating City South STOP

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Detective Inspector Robinson STOP

A work of art STOP How very flattering to the subject STOP Indeed evidence of such a private nature should be contained STOP Perhaps one might consider removing it from the station altogether STOP Would your boudoir be a safe keeping spot QUERY

Hon. Phryne Fisher

PS STOP The Detectives here in London are completely incompetent STOP Should you ever feel you wish to leave Australia England is in sore need of you STOP As am I STOP

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

.

Miss Fisher STOP

Evidence now safely relocated STOP Your suggestion in regards to its new location was impeccable STOP I knew I could count on your advice STOP

Det. Inspector Robinson

PS STOP Were I not embroiled in the aftermath of your departure I assure you I would come assist you in what I can only assume are dubiously legal side efforts to assist the local constabulary STOP

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Detective Inspector Robinson STOP

Aftermath of my departure QUERY I must know all immediately STOP Please inform STOP

Hon. Phryne Fisher

PS STOP I assure you that my profession is perfectly legal STOP

PPS STOP How does the evidence look hung about your boudoir QUERY

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

.

Miss Fisher STOP

Indeed I am very acquainted with your need to know everything STOP It seems that without your presence there are simply no murders to be found STOP Am investigating the case thoroughly STOP I will inform you to my findings STOP

Det. Inspector Robinson

PS STOP The photographs are evidence Miss Fisher STOP I do not have them hung about like still life paintings STOP They are tucked in a box at my bedside in the event that I may need to review the evidence STOP

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Detective,

Your bedside QUERY Miss Williams would be scandalized indeed STOP It is as though you have sensed my melancholy from across the ocean STOP However the idea of that particular evidence at your bedside and the thought of your not solving any of my murders with some other Lady Detective has turned my day quite about STOP

Phryne

PS STOP I am curious about your thought process as you review the evidence STOP Please inform STOP

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

.

Miss Fisher STOP

I find that I cannot picture you melancholy STOP Are there no young men to take you to the theaters in London QUERY If Miss Williams would be scandalized by the photograph's placement, then I shall not mention my thought process lest it get back to her and she faints straight away STOP

Jack

PS STOP I have found a murder STOP Doctor MacMillian seems to have taken it upon herself to go undercover as you are not around to do so STOP I saw her in a dress with her hair down and I did not recognize her for nearly half an hour STOP She has thoroughly mocked me for my oversite STOP

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Jack STOP

Are you attempting to lure me back to Australia QUERY Now I must know how the photos occupy your mind STOP Between that notion and the vision of Mac in a dress it took all my will power not to drag my parents back to Victoria so we could work their issues out much closer to my favorite Police Detective STOP I am afraid I am about to get very emotional so feel free to avert your gaze from this missive if you do not wish to view such sentiments STOP I miss you STOP Terribly STOP

Phryne

PS STOP Plenty of men STOP None of them are you STOP

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

.

Miss Fisher STOP

I have written you a letter STOP Mr B convinced me to partake in your excellent whiskey stores and without you to help me I had to drink the entire bottle on my own STOP The letter will be entirely without inhibitions STOP I find myself embarrassed STOP But I meant every word STOP Expect it in about a month STOP In the interim please inform me as to why you cannot drag your parents to Victoria STOP Mr B and Miss Williams would be more than happy to accommodate them STOP I know because I asked them at dinner last night STOP Gratin was delicious as always STOP You are truly missing out over there in London STOP

Jack

PS STOP I miss you more STOP

* * *

.

 _To the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher,_

 _Miss Williams is sending a parcel to you tomorrow and she suggested I add something to it. I have decided to write you a letter in response to the previous telegram I received for a variety of reasons listed below:_

 _I thought it best to forgo the telegram format for this particular response to your never ending queries. This letter is a very serious one of the most confidential variety and I would not want such delicate information in the wrong hands. It is a response in regards to your wondering how the evidence we discussed occupies my mind. To do so, I must speak frankly. I apologize in advance for distressing your feminine sensibilities but you have requested I speak frankly._

 _A roll of film was discovered approximately three weeks after your (very sudden) departure from Victoria. It was developed a few days later and only by luck did Constable Collins not look at the final products before handing them over to me. As advised, I took them from the public place of City South Police Station in hopes to avoid the release the private nature they entailed. Some of the constables I work with may not have understood the artistic aspect of what they were viewing and focused on the rather naked woman instead. Luckily for you, I am an avid art lover and was able to appreciate them for what they were. Not as luckily for you, you've been gone nearly three months now and without your pure and innocent presence my mind has been led astray. As have my hands._

 _As one sorts through the evidence, ones collar grows tight and their skin becomes flushed. There is no other appropriate response to what one is viewing. I find that clothing becomes tight and restricting – particularly in certain nether regions. The obvious remedy to such an uncomfortable physical reaction is to remove one's clothing. So that is what I, as a police officer, upholder of the law, and mystery solver, do next. (After all, how else might one get through review the evidence at hand?)_

 _Were an itch to form on the tip of your nose, Phryne, wouldn't you scratch it? There is no difference here except that an itch is an annoying, horrid thing, where as you are beautiful and enticing and brilliant and altogether perfection and it is far more than just a pleasure to think of you as I scratch this particular itch._

 _That kiss, Phryne. If I could follow you to London for nothing more than another kiss like that I would be there in a heartbeat, Phryne. But alas, I am shackled to my desk as I hunt down murderers. This job is no more or less than depressing without you by my side as I do it, Phryne. I wish I could follow you. I wish with all my heart that I was where you are. But it cannot be. I wish with all my heart that I could hold you in my arms and kiss your sweet lips and run my fingers through your hair. I wish with all my heart that I could wake up to your face each morning, rather than wake up_ from _it as a dream slips away from me. I wish with all my heart that I could spend all night showing you all the ways in which I loved you and prove to you that I am not as inexperienced as I am sure you think I am. I wish with all my heart that I was yours and you were mine Phryne Fisher. I wish with all my heart that you were not melancholy, or sad in any way but that I could spend each passing hour making you smile._

 _I wish that I could mark you with my lips so that any time the breeze blew your scarf aside anyone who was with you would know that you are spoken for. I wish that I could feel you, all of you, that I knew what it felt like to be_ with _you and that each dream was based on reality not my imagination. I wish that it was not my hands but yours that stroked away my frustration and yearning for you at the end of each day as I look at the photographs you left behind._

 _I wish you hadn't left me behind._

 _I miss you Phryne._

 _I love you._

 _Come home to me Phryne. Please come home._

 _Your Jack._

 _._

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Jack STOP

A letter for me QUERY How thrilling STOP I simply cannot wait STOP You have intrigued me further at the thought of your writing without inhibitions STOP The following month cannot end soon enough STOP

My rationale is twofold STOP One They are impossible and I need to be with them as they work things out so that one does not murder the other STOP I am not certain they will agree to come to Melbourne with me leaving me no choice but to stay here STOP Two They are impossible and very possibly also slightly insane and if you thought spending time with my father was bad you truly do not want to spend time with the two of them together STOP I am protecting you STOP You should thank me STOP

Phryne STOP

PS STOP I do not think it is possible for you to miss me more STOP At the very least you have Mr B's Gratin and murder to distract yourself STOP I am without the incomparable Mr B and the chief of London's Police force has demanded that I be kept at least 50 feet away from any scene relating to any crime of any level here in London STOP I am considering traveling to the country for the weekend STOP Perhaps I will get lucky and someone will die there STOP

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

.

Miss Fisher STOP

I feel it is my duty as a Police man to encourage you to stop STOP Harassing the constabulary and stealing from crime scenes is very bad STOP And quite annoying when it is not endearing STOP Likely that particular police chief is less likely to be endeared than I STOP In regards to your protection of me I do indeed thank you STOP Expect flowers within a week STOP

Jack STOP

PS STOP Stop wishing for people to die STOP Seriously STOP Stop STOP

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Jack STOP

I've received the most beautiful flowers STOP They are sitting in my boudoir and I find that they make me think of you as I lay down for bed STOP As if you do not already fill my mind most of the time STOP The smell they provide is positive sinful STOP As are my reactions to thoughts of you STOP Take from that as you will STOP

Phryne

PS STOP I stopped STOP No murder STOP But our hostess' jewels were stolen STOP I was very convinced it was my father STOP Until the old maid came by and admitted to stealing them after the husband fired her when she fell pregnant with his child STOP I thought a distraction would help STOP But I still miss you STOP

* * *

THE HONOURABLE PHRYNE FISHER – LONDON ENGLAND 547PLX

.

Miss Fisher STOP

Stop this STOP The man at the Union where I send telegrams gives me a very suggestive look each time I walk in the door but his eyes were positively reeling after he had transcribed your last missive STOP I understand why STOP Your case sounds far more interesting than mine STOP One of Burt's friends saw a man stab another after a bar fight STOP There were half a dozen witnesses and the murderer confessed to the whole thing crying like a baby after no more than a quarter of an hour of questioning STOP I am bored out of my mind STOP But even if I was consumed by a case I would still find time to miss you STOP

Jack

PS STOP I told you to stop STOP Don't stop STOP

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

Jack STOP

Your missive was charming STOP I was so glad to hear from Cec and Burt that you have actually allowed them to help on a case or two STOP They would never admit it but they're proud as punch STOP I heard about that last case in the newspaper STOP I noticed that in your version you didn't mention that you were nearly shot twice nor did you comment on getting into a street fight with the suspect STOP I'm horribly worried about you Jack Robinson STOP I've telegrammed Mac and told her she had best take good care of our Detective Inspector and that I shall absolutely wring her neck if she lets you go an kill yourself over some case just because you have this innate heroicness about you STOP

I worry STOP And as always I miss you STOP

Phryne

* * *

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR JOHN ROBINSON – MELBOURNE AUSTRAILIA 22YPP

.

My darling STOP

Received your letter STOP My ship arrives in three weeks' time around noon STOP Meet me there Jack Robinson STOP

Your Phryne STOP

PS STOP I'm so sorry STOP But I've had to bring my parents STOP

* * *

 **Sooo? Please review and let me know if you like this or hated it! Also comment if you want to see more chapters here!**


	3. Homecoming

**Jack**

As far as I could tell she hadn't told anyone else. No one had brought up her return and everyone was acting as though all was normal. Had I really been the only one she had told? My heart glowed at that. _My darling,_ she had said. _Yours,_ she had called herself. Mine. My suspicions were confirmed when Mrs. Collins had begun talk of sending another care package to Europe. I had convinced her to hold off for a bit, citing a telegram I had received from Phryne that I told her had spoken of a letter to Dot. Perhaps it has a request for you, I had told her. Something she had forgotten that she wishes you to send her, you wouldn't want to send a package without those instructions, would you? It was ridiculous. The words had fallen out of my mouth in a jumble and I was certain I was suspected. I hadn't counted on how devoted to Phryne the whole lot of them were. The moment they heard she might be in need of something they were very much so inclined to wait.

By the time the date in question arrived I was so entirely on edge I was useless for any other purpose. I had requested the day off weeks ago, but now that it was here I could hardly believe it. I had changed suits three times and tied and untied my tie so many times it was thoroughly wrinkled and I had to choose another one. Today I would see her. Today I could wrap her in my arms, call her my darling, and tell her, tell her that I was hers, body and soul, that I…that I…

Fucking hell. That I loved her. I loved her. It was so obvious. Of course I did. I think I had for a very long time. I had realized that I was falling that day when the car crashed, the day I thought she was dead, but I thought I had chased that away, put away my feelings, just went on to be her friend. But they were there. They were always there. I loved her. I was hers and she was mine and today I would see her.

.

At a quarter past ten I pulled up to the docks, hours early. Or not. Because there it was, the ship she had sailed on, in the port. It wasn't supposed to arrive until noon or later! I had been following the weather reports and it had been sailing against a storm (not a bad one, but enough of one to slow them down) for weeks. How was she here already? I looked to the gangplank only to see it already down. She had been here a while. They had probably already unloaded. Had she taken a taxi? Was she gone? Had I missed her.

Quiet filled me the moment I spotted it. She was hard to miss. A pile of luggage was being loaded into a car and she was perched on one particularly large trunk, legs crossed, head thrown back, eyes closed, facing up at the sun. She positively glowed. I let out a noise of relief and her head snapped towards me.

"Jack!" She called out leaping to her feet. Wild horses couldn't have pulled me back. I was running now, much faster than I had been that day on the air strip. She was running too, dodging other pedestrians, a grin lighting up her whole face.

"Phryne!" I called out, feeling a tear dripping out of the corner of my eye. An armful of Phryne Fisher launched itself at me and I caught her readily. I held her tightly. My hands running along her arms, her back, holding the back of her head, gripping her hand in mine. She was real. Solid. Not a dream that would fade away all too quickly. She seemed to be doing the same, running her hands all over my body. She was crying too and I stopped and stared at the sight.

"What?" She asked, pulling back ever so slightly and looking nervously at me.

"Are you crying?" I replied, my voice filled with awe and wonder at the mere thought of it. Rolling her eyes, she wacked my arm and pursed her lips.

"Oh shut up." Arms wrapped around my neck, she pulled me close and kissed me soundly. It wasn't as passionate or intricate as our kiss on the airfield, nor was it as heated and full of potential as our kiss at Café Replique. It was simply the quick, in public kiss, a couple could share under the watchful eyes of so many others. I brushed my lips against her check as she pulled away and whispered into her ear.

"I will kiss you properly the moment we are alone." I could feel her shiver in my embrace and I smirked with a small amount of pride knowing I had affected her so.

"I look forward to it greatly, my darling." She stepped out of my arms, but not before taking my hand in hers. "Unfortunately dear, I now must introduce you to my parents." I almost laughed at the tone in which she spoke before realizing that she was quite serious.

"I have met your father."

"Indeed. But not when he is with my mother. He is a whole other monster in that situation. Not to mention my mother…" She turned to me suddenly, gripping my arm in a vice like grip. "John Edward Robinson I swear by all that is holy up to and including Mr. B's cooking that if you so much as kiss my mother's hand I shall string you up by your toes."

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, my eyes wide, without understanding.

"My mother is…a force of nature. She will flirt with you and do her absolute best to seduce you and if you even begin to crack and break my heart I shall destroy you. Do you hear me?" I turned to her and took her face in mine.

"You seem to be under the delusion that I can so much as look away when you are around my dear. You are like the sun, and how you think I could pay attention to another with your light shining on me, is completely beyond me." She smiled, flattered.

"So long as you don't go searching out the moon when the sun clothes herself in darkness, I am satisfied." I shook my head. What child was so nervous about her mother outshining her? In fact, when was Phryne _ever_ worried about another outshining her? It was a ludicrous thought. I was still ruminating on this when the Hon. Baroness Fisher turned around and smiled at me. Dear lord there were two of them. She was clearly where Phryne got her looks. (I had seen the Baron. I should have assumed as much, but still.) Her hair was longer, more elegant beside her daughter's trendy locks. But she had the same porcelain skin and bright shining eyes. She had a smaller, more delicate frame than Phryne's striking height, but the same shapely legs, exhibited in a rather scandalously short dress.

"You must be the Detective Inspector." She said coquettishly, holding out her hand clearly meant for me to kiss. "I have heard a great deal about you, and I look forward to finding out just how true some of those rumors have been." Biting back a smile, I took her hand and decidedly shook it.

"Jesus, Helen." The Baron swore. "We've been here for less than an hour and you've already flirted with five people. Your daughter's friend amongst them!"

"Mother, we talked about this."

"Oh excuse me for noticing a handsome man and saying hello! And Henry, dear, I'm not _flirting_ , I'm simply saying hello."

"For you that is flirting."

"You wound me darling."

"Mother. Jack is completely and utterly off limits." Phryne said, her voice tenser than usual.

"Scratch that!" the Baron shouted. "All men except your husband are completely off limits."

"I'm very aware of that Henry." She returned with an eye roll that was so reminiscent of Phryne I nearly laughed out loud. The bickering between the two of them continued all the way to the car, and the entire drive to 221B the Esplanade. The other thin that spanned that entire time? Phryne holding my hand, our fingers running the length of one another, playing, and all the while desperately touching each other, satisfied with the knowledge that after months of waiting, longing, dreaming, we were together.

I smiled as I pulled up to the front of her house.

"Allow me a moment of fun?" I asked, squeezing her hand. She nodded, clearly trusting me. I opened the front door to her home without knocking and called out.

"Mrs. Collins? That package from Miss Fisher has arrived for you. I think she's sent you a present." A squeal of excitement came from the kitchen and I could hear her footsteps.

"Miss Fisher has written?" She called out, excitedly as she made her way to the front hall.

"Not exactly." I said, stepping aside just as Dorothy stepped into the foyer, getting out of the way of the two women. A loud scream rang out as Mrs. Collins saw her employer and promptly burst into tears. Phryne swept the girl up in her arms and the two held each other, crying. Mr. Butler made his way out instantly to see what caused the commotion and he too excitedly greeted his employer.

She was home. And all was well.

* * *

 **Author's note: Not a particularly exciting chapter but it's a transition into the next one! I promise things will pick up speed soon! Thanks for reading and PLEASE! REVIEW! xoxo – E**

 **P.S. I haven't written them yet. But it is very likely that within the next chapter or two there will be some smutty goodness. (Very in character, but still. Just to warn you.)**


	4. The Distraction of Peas

**So it's been what? A billion weeks since I updated? Yeah. Life has a way of doing that to us all. Here's me really hopping you all forgive me and read my story despite my being an awful person. Enjoy:)**

* * *

Bert's mouth remained open for much of dinner. Cec's face retained a bright red flush for much of that time period as well. And neither of them could stop looking at the Hon. Helen Fisher, Baroness of Richmond. She was beautiful, that wasn't a question. But the more time I spent in her presence, the more I could see the differences between Phryne and her mother. Phryne flirted like it was a sport, but she made sure that it was perfectly clear to any parties involved that she may tease and bat her eyes, but she in no way expected a thing from them and they shouldn't expect a thing from her. She wasn't a tease. The same could not be said of her mother. She was a siren to be sure, but Helen Fisher used her charms as payment. She bought and sold favors and attachment with her allure and she would use it to get whatever she wanted. Phryne was kinder then that. Phryne took care of her people where her mother used them. She wasn't cruel. That was simply how she was. **  
**

Helen Fisher's small, boyish frame may have been in vogue now, but I much preferred Phryne's striking height and the slight curves that haunted my dreams each night we spent apart. She was much more to my taste.

Mr. Butler had, with the grace of a diplomat, managed to seat Phryne, her mother, and her father, at equidistant locations, each as far from one another as they could possibly be. (He had also seated me directly on Phryne's side which I appreciated greatly.) Despite his careful attempts to keep the Fishers away from the general vicinity of one another's throats, they still managed to find themselves in a full on fight not 30 minutes into the dinner. I could feel Phryne tensing up beside me, clearly upset. My hand went to her thigh, massaging it gently, as comfortingly as I could. Instantly she relaxed into my touch. Her lips took up the pasttime of enjoying Mr. Butler's fine dinner spread rather than rationally attempting to contain the completely irrational fight her parents were having over God only knew what.

A moment later, her hand reached down to rest atop my own, casually pressing my hand even tighter into her inner thigh. It almost could have been an accident. If I didn't know her so well, that was. She expected me to pull back, to remind her of propriety and to be the voice of reason, but the hell with that. I had an idea that sounded an awful lot more fun. My hand slipped even further down, and then pulled back towards her body. It now lay inches from the appex of her thighs, I gripped her leg tightly and pulled her entire body almost imperceptibly closer. It would have looked as though she were shifting in her seat were anyone paying attention to us. (Why anyone would look at us when the Baron of Richmond was throwing peas at his wife much to her amusement, and she attempted to catch them in what little cleavage she had created for herself with clever underthings was beyond me.) She shivered beside me, and once again I took a great deal of pleasure out of the effect I was having on her.

My thumb rubbed small circles into the skin that sat above her garters. Her hand gripped mine but whether it was a pathetic attempt to get me to stop or a plea to continue I don't think even she knew. Tilted my head towards her, I whispered in her direction.

" _Relax, my darling."_ Her nails bit my skin as she sighed.

" _The question is my dear_ ," she murmured back, " _How do we get them all to leave_?"

"I hate to say it, I think we're stuck with most of them. Dot and Hugh's place had a leak so she's living here while it's being fixed and-"

"Wait, where is Hugh living?"

"On a spare cot at the station." She rolled her eyes.

"Is there any _good_ reason he isn't staying with his wife."

"I'm quite sure that they didn't want to intrude on your hospitality."

"That's ridiculous."

"Phryne,"

"Dot, dear," She murmured across the table.

"Can I get you something Miss Fisher?"

"Not at all, tell me dear, why isn't Hugh staying here while your home gets fixed?" Mrs. Collins flushed but shrugged.

"We didn't feel it proper without an invitation."

"My dear you and Hugh and anyone _you_ deem proper always have an invitation here. You may not live here anymore but you are family and you and yours are always welcome."

"That's very kind of you miss," Hugh replied, nodding. "Thank you."

"Of course, Hugh! You know I think of the two of you as part of my closest family! I adore you and would never do anything as inappropriate," Her voice was raising now, and I could tell she was in control once again. Smiling, I removed my hand from her person as she continued to speak. "as say, throwing food across a perfectly respectable table at you, nor would I insult you in front of perfect strangers."

"They're members of your household, darling." Helen said charmingly. "Surely that's not perfect strangers! Besides, I'm quite certain they don't mind, do you poppet?" She turned to Burt and Cec, both of whom were quick to assume she was referring to them and quick to assure her that they were practically family and that she had no recourse from them. In less eloquent terms, of course.

"I've met them all before," The Baron retaliated. "They _aren't_ strangers to me."

"Either way, my staff and I would appreciate it if you refrained from throwing the lovely food Mr. B has prepared for us and ate it instead." She was using that tone, that 'don't argue with me' tone, that 'if you know what's good for you...' tone. And it worked. Her parents, albeit grumbling and still shooting angry glares at each other from across the room went back to their meal. She turned to me and much more quietly added, "Who said you could stop?"

* * *

The champagne couldn't have actually improved since I partook of her stores not a week ago, and yet I found that in her presence I enjoyed it exponentially more. The Baron nudged my elbow.

"I was just about to have a few drops of nerve tonic? I recall that you enjoyed it immensely my last visit, care for a glass." I shuddered at the memory.

"Not in the least, Baron." The man broke into a series of guffaws promting his wife to ask him what on Earth could be so funny. This began the retelling of the story, and while the Baron, Phryne, and Dot were all well aware of the particulars, it was a first time for my Senior Constable, Cec and Burt, and the Baroness.

Needless to say, they found my humiliation hilarious. Even Phryne could be found biting her lips to keep from laughing.

"Find something amusing, Miss Fisher?"

"Not at all." She said, her grin betraying her words.

"If you want to talk embarrassing stories, I have a few that might add to this conversation."

"You wouldn't dare." She said blankly.

"Try me."

"The Spider incident." She flushed bright red and shook her head.

"No! That's a perfectly rational thing to be afraid of!"

"To a certain degree, perhaps." This went on for hours, and the more we teased one another, the more we laughed and enjoyed each others' company, just as we used to, the quieter the Baron and his wife became. After Hugh and Dot left - to pick up his things from the station, they'd be back in a few moments to move it into one of Phryne's guest rooms she had insisted they take over Dot's old quarters - Bert and Cec made their excuses as well. Aunt P had left before dinner even began, even the enticement of seeing her sister could not overcome her inability to spend any real amount of time with the Baron, and Mac had been with an old patient (though she and Phryne had made plans to lunch tomorrow). That left me and my Phryne, as well as the Baron and Baroness.

How to get them to voluntarily retire... immediately? That was the question. Phryne and I had been in company far too long and, without speaking for her, I knew that I was absolutely dying to be alone. It had been months since we were properly alone and even then, we had wasted the opportunity. I wanted to hold her in my arms at the very least, wrap myself around her and just _be_ with her.

The Baron, however, had other plans.

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 **A/N: Please review! xoxo - E  
**


	5. Threats

**MY LAST UPDATE WAS 4 DAYS AGO! Be sure you read chapter 4 before digging into this one!**

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 **Author's Note: So here's the thing... I wasn't really sure what my audience wanted, smutty goodness, or just suggestive naughtiness. I can write the next chapter and stick to the T rating or I can change it to M and really dig into that Phracking. I had initially planned to make that scene happen in this chapter but as I'm not so sure what my audience is thinking I'm holding off. Please comment or message me to tell me what you guys want to read!**

 **Kisses - Elsa**

* * *

 _If that man did not shut up I may be forced to jump his daughter in front of him, to hell with the consequences._ This thought drifted in and out of my mind several times over the course of torture being served up this particularly warm Autumn evening. Phryne had, very politely (at first anyway), suggested to both of her parents no fewer than 7 times now that she was purely exhausted from the voyage and that they must be as well and how nice it might be for them to retire. To no avail. Each time one or the other of them would wave their hand and claim nonsense, and tell her she didn't look tired at all and they were certainly up for more pleasant conversating and how lovely it would be if they could all just talk. At one point Phryne grumbled under her breath that 'pleasant conversating' hadn't been the exact order of their evenings every night for the past few months, on the ship or otherwise.

The Collins couple had returned with Hugh's belongings and retired almost immediately. I noticed a small amount of noise emerging from the upstairs region not half an hour later and with as much grace and poise as she could muster with that grin spread across her face and then some, Phryne walked to the gramophone and turned up the music. That had been nearly three hours past. It was 2 A.M. and here the Fisher family was prattling on nipping and swatting at each other with their words, each waiting for another one to break first, for their own victory to become apparent. What the winning blow might look like I had no idea and quite frankly no longer cared, I simply wanted us all to retire for the evening. It was becoming more and more obvious that my initial plan for this evening may not be going to point and, sighing, I readied myself to throw in the towel.

"My dear," I murmured through the bickering happening across the room from us. "It is growing late. I should return home." Her hand gripped mine, her eyes filling with horror and she shook her head.

"Please don't go, Jack. I've been waiting for tonight for what seems an age."

"It's been three weeks, my dear, we can wait another day." I said, feeling quite oppositional to that idea myself.

"Three weeks since I began anticipating that it might actually happen perhaps, it's been years since my waiting began." I froze.

"How long, Phryne? For you, I mean."

"Since the wanting or the waiting?"

"Isn't it the same?"

"Jack Robinson I've wanted you since you kicked me out of that bathroom and handed me your card. I've been waiting since the moment Hugh told me you were getting a divorce." My chest rose and fell with my breathing but the air no longer seemed important. She'd wanted me even longer than I'd wanted her. Not due to any remiss in appearance nor person in her part, simply because I couldn't even imagine such a possibility. Then she'd completely overcome my senses and despite my marriage vows, she fast became the single most important woman in my life. Then when Rosie asked me for a divorce, for a brief shining moment I liked to revisit in the wildest of fantasies I'd imagined making her mine. It hadn't been until very recently that I started waiting for such a thing. Since I saw her expression change when I'd adjusted her scarf to get a look at the mark her attacker had made, really, right then I had known, she was as affected as I and this path we were hurtling down together was leading to an inevitable collision. I waited for that collision with great anticipation, thinking that I had never been so fully invested in making something happen as this, one romantic overture to the next, working toward that collision. She'd been working towards it so much longer. The thought of her fantasies, her plans and schemes, the way she might have imagined me as I did her... it broke something within me, something I may never be able to fully put back together. I turned to her parents and raised my voice.

"If it's all the same to you, your host would like to retire for the evening and if you do not acquiesce and allow her to do so, I may decide that a better host for you tonight would be a jail cell at City South. Baron I'm quite aware that the levels in your nerve tonic are far past the legal limit here in Victoria."

"You wouldn't dare." He spoke, attempting his force intimidation into his words. Unfortunately for him neither were they intimidating nor was I a man easily intimidated.

"We both know that I most certainly would, Henry." Phryne stifled a laugh with her hand, surreptitiously covering the lower half of her face with her fingers to conceal her mirth.

"And what about me, Jack?" Helen asked, rolling my name off her tongue like a question. "What shall you do with me while my husband is locked up, far away?" I rolled my eyes. It was pathetic, really, next to Phryne's multitude of charms, her words rang hollow, empty, and meaningless to me.

"I doubt he'd press charges, Baroness, but I did notice you steal Bert's handkerchief earlier, quite without his verbal consent."

"The boy was speechless, if that's what you mean."

"I would still be well within my legal limits to hold you while we investigate the full legal ramifications of what occurred. So unless you think those sweat and vomit stained cots preferable to the lavish rooms Miss Fisher has arranged for the both of you during your stay, I suggest you make your way upstairs."

"I'll need a maid to help me undress, Phryne!" Her mother insisted, turning now to her daughter, attempting to charm _her_. "If you don't have one awake at this hour you'll have to help me."

"I'm sure you've managed to undress yourself in the past, you'll do so again, as Miss Fisher will be otherwise occupied."

"Now Jack," Henry began.

"You've been privy to your daughter's attention and help for months now, you're going to have to live without her for the remainder of this morning."

"The remainder of the morning?!" The Baron hollered indignantly.

"Between your own common sense and the assistance of her overindulgent staff, you should be just find until she returns. Don't expect to see her until noon."

"Noon?!"

"Perhaps later. She may wish to get some sleep when we've finished." To angry at her parents to even blush at the words that had escaped my lips without a single thought, I took her hand in mine and pulled her out of her chair, leading her towards her stairs. As soon as the door closed behind us we turned towards each other, our eyes meeting in something that was both anticipation, and absolute shock at what had just transpired.

"You just threatened to arrest my parents if they didn't leave us alone so we could have sex."

"I did." I admitted.

"Huh." Was her sole reply.

"What? Are you angry? Did I go too far?"

"No I just..." She pursed her lips and tilted her head. "I didn't think I could love you any more and you proved me wrong."

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 **Author's Note: A shorty put (hopefully!) a goodie! Let me know what you thought in the comments below and remember to comment or message me to tell me what you think about the levels of smut that should occur in the next chapter? Keep it rated T? Or bring on the Mature Audience rating?**


	6. What We've All Been Waiting For

**Author's Note: Well it turns out you people are feeling Jack and Phryne the same way I'M feeling Jack and Phryne...so M it is! (As XXXX comented, "tastefully smutty". I think that will do the trick and that is the note I am aiming for!) I am absolutely DYING for feedback on this chapter, so PLEASE, review or PM me with your thoughts. I'm not one of the people who is upset over negative reviews! I thrive on them - they help me improve my writing!**

 **So aparently the Baronesses name is Margaret...I somehow missed that. In order to avoid confusion, I'm going to leave it Helen in this fic. Hope that doesn't annoy anyone too much!**

 **Thanks to all - I love you guys so much! I can't believe this little thing I thought was going to be a one shot would go like this but here we are! xoxo - E**

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 _"You just threatened to arrest my parents if they didn't leave us alone so we could have sex."_

 _"I did." I admitted._

 _"Huh." Was her sole reply._

 _"What? Are you angry? Did I go too far?"_

 _"No I just..." She pursed her lips and tilted her head. "I didn't think I could love you any more and you proved me wrong."_

* * *

I leaned back against the closed door, eyes following her as she drifted about her room, readying herself for bed. The duvet had already been pulled back but she was taking it upon herself to light a small oil lamp near her window, nudge the logs in her fireplace, and slip out of her shoes. She glanced my way to check if I was watching. I was. I always was. She smiled slyly, and rid herself of the wrap whose tassels I had been tugging on for a good part of the last hour. It slid to the floor with nearly as much grace and elegance as it's owner. She walked, no, _floated_ towards me, turning her back and pushing her hair out of the way of the dress, indicating that I should begin to undo the buttons that traced down her spine. I fiddled with the first button, not stalling per say, just... taking my time. Allowing this moment to be the first of many, one that we would always remember, and one that took its damn time because I for one, wanted this to last forever.

One by one, the buttons popped open, revealing more and more of her back. Before it was fully open, I slid my hands inside, feeling her warm skin against my palms. My fingers traced the elegant lines that moved across her back, the muscles beneath flexing and relaxing like the beat of a song. She relaxed into me and sighed. She didn't speak, she didn't rush me, although I was beginning to suspect that she was as desperate for me as I was for her, she just... let me be. We existed in random as my hands roamed her exposed back freely, rubbing, caressing, tracing. Lower, lower, and lower. Finally, when they'd explored all the available skin, I returned to the buttons. A few more revealed the swell of her delightfully curvaceous derriere, I bit back a groan at the sight, on display before me, not for some distraction of a crowd as she searched for a clue, not for the men watching her and her fans dance gaily, just for me. I ran the backside of two knuckles over the swell and she whimpered prettily, all before I returned to the buttons with haste.

Moments later, the dress was fully undone, still clinging to her form prettily. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her back into me, the lengths of our bodies tracing one another, her skin pressed tightly against my suit. I ran one hand over her shoulder, the other clinging around her waist, holding her to me. The exploratory hand slipped between her shoulder blade and the loose hanging dress, running up over and separating her from the fabric. Using one hand, I rid the top of her from the dress, it still hanging on her hips, barely, held up more by my arm, wrapped around her than by its own, actual construction.

 _Usually lingerie,_ a memory whispered in my ear. She had suggestively murmured to me that beneath the lethal dresses she frequented there was usually lingerie. There was most certainly _not_ lingerie under this particular dress.

"It would appear you are missing several important articles of clothing, my dear." I spoke softly, reaching forward to kiss the spot just behind her ear.

"Purposefully." She replied, turning her head into the kiss, pressing back into me. "Discarding yet another layer, as wonderfully intimate as it can be, was going to take too much time in my mind. I thought I could simply leave it at the dress and stockings." I released the dress. Her legs were indeed clad with stockings, two lace garters holding them up, one also holding a sharp stiletto knife against her skin. I should have admonished her. I should have told her that concealing a weapon was both illegal and dangerous. But for the life of me, just then, I couldn't quite get past how unerringly sexy it was. I sank to my knees, my hands running the length of her as I knelt at her feet, and I leaned forward, kissing her inner thigh. She murmured something unintelligible as I grabbed the garters with my teeth and pulled them down her legs. She stepped out of them and moved forward, quickly turning around, giving me a vision I would never forget. Stunning. She was absolutely stunning. A Goddess. It made sense that I was on my knees, at her feet.

"Jack," she whispered, her fingers beckoning. I staggered to my feet, staring in awe. "Before we... I need to tell you something." I nodded, waiting for it. She found refuge, release in another man's arms while she was away. She didn't know if this would last. She was using an illegal method of contraception. (Okay that last one I knew for certain but still...) Any number of possibilities came to mind, each with varying degrees of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. And yet none of them would have mattered. She'd been gone for months. I couldn't reasonably have expected her to wait around for some man she's shared a kiss or two with. She didn't know how long it would last? Neither did I. It could be a whirlwind, I knew her. It might last forever, I knew how I felt. Either way, at the very least, we had now. It would be worth heartbreak later on. And I really didn't care if-

"Jack, I love you. I know we've sort of said it. I've certainly tried to show you how I feel. But I need to be perfectly clear. I love you. There can't be anyone else for me after this, you're it, Jack. So if I ruin this, if we somehow manage to crash and burn, it's not because of you. I love you more than I knew I could love anyone. And if I ruin this, know that _I_ ruined it. Because I tend to do that. And that you are, sort of the be all, end all, for my my darling." I took a deep breath, filling my lungs.

"I've loved you more and more every day I've known you, Phryne Fisher. You are my everything. And _we_ , will _not_ ruin this. Do you know how I know that?" I opened my arms, enveloping the delightfully naked woman inside them. She shook her head.

"How?"

"Because no two people were ever more destined to be together than you and I, Phryne. And you infuriate me. But I've known that since the beginning. And you provoke me into being an ass sometimes, but at the end of the day, you make me a better man, Phryne, and my darling?" I took a deep breath. "We've been apart, for one reason or another, and no matter what happens when we're together, no matter how angry you are at me or how infuriated I've become at you, its better than the heartache of when you're gone." She smiled, her hand running through the hair at the base of my neck. "You've been gone so long." I whispered.

"I thought of only you, every torturous second. I didn't know you could miss someone like that."

"Like what?"

"Like your whole body hurts and you just want to throw things and cry and every breath is more painful than the last and just when you think you've reached the surface, someone makes a joke that reminds you of how you can't hear their laugh and you feel like you're drowning again." She looked up at me and lowered her voice. "Kiss me Jack."

* * *

That kiss was... indescribable. It was years of pent up frustration, energy, and love, all pouring out into one moment. I thought it might be frantic, and it was in a way, but at the same time, it matched this odd dance we'd been having, moving, always moving, but sometimes it was slow, like a good waltz, other times we leapt into a tango or a foxtrot. Our lips moved over one another, her tongue, swiping against my lips, begging entrance. Who was I to deny her anything her heart desired? Or tongues dueled as her hands found my tie, making quick work of it. I helped her, both of our hands working tirelessly to get me as naked as she was. It didn't take long. I wanted her. She and I, bare as the days we were born, lying in tandem beside one another, just holding on, it was enough to make anyone drunk, and my head was certainly careening off in every direction at once. I felt fully intoxicated, merely by our current state of intimacy.

"Phryne." I whispered, using her name to beg for her.

"Please, Jack." She whimpered, her hips rolling into my leg. I stilled for a moment, an attempt to gain some small amount of control over myself, then again, I learned a long time ago that when Phryne Fisher was involved, I had no control whatsoever. It was pointless to even try. My cock was hard, pressed between our bellies, and as she squirmed against me she provided much relished friction against it, provoking a low groan in the back of my throat. I rolled over, now hovering atop her, my weight being held up by my forearms. Her arms and legs found their way around me and in doing so, lined me up perfectly with her entrance. I wasn't about to wait any longer and miss my chance. I pushed in, and we let out twin sighs of relief. I could have wept. Could have. To clarify, I most certainly did _not_. This was... this was... this was coming home at the end of a long day, this was finding that place that makes you smile, makes your heart sing, makes you feel like nothing is the matter because how could it be when there's _this_. This was nothing short of heaven.

As soon as I got over the pure perfection of the moment, a slightly more... masculine side began to take over. My lips attached themselves to her neck and I began to mark her, like the caveman I was quickly becoming, so that anyone who saw her might know she was mine. She made noises under my ministrations that did nothing to lessen the claim I was intent on marking her with. Her nails scratched down my back and I could feel my skin splitting beneath them. There she went. Leaving her own mark on me. Just as I was claiming her for me, she was claiming me as hers. And I loved that. I thrust into her steadily, my body demanding that I continue, demanding that I do so for as long as I possibly could. My lips still nipping and sucking at her skin, one hand lowered itself to her glorious, glorious breast, finding great joy in kneading and holding what I found there.

"God Jack, yes!" She murmured breathily. "There!" I rolled her small nipple between two fingers and pinched it, causing a squeal to erupt from her lips. My mouth lowered itself, from her neck, to her collar bone, and then... lower. Attaching myself to her nipple, I sucked, relishing the throaty moan that my actions created in her. Her hands gripped my hair, holding my head in place. Suckling on her, my land reached down to hold her hip, pressing her even further into me as we fucked, deliciously and hurriedly. More. I needed more.

"More, Jack." She breathed. "I need more." I nipped at her nipple one last time, causing her to emit a girlish squeal of delight, before pulling myself from inside her. I ignored her angry protests and pulled her around. I was sitting up now, I had somehow managed to scoot myself up to her headboard, my back leaning against it. The exact mechanics of my movement were quite lost in the other delights I had been much more focused upon. Phryne now was upon my lap, straddling me. I hadn't tried... other positions... with Rosie. She would never have allowed that. Sin, and what have you. But that book Phryne had lent Collins... _that_ had been rather informative. Evidently this position would allow me deeper access, and would stimulate her in a way that missionary sex couldn't. Her eyes lit up, catching on to my intentions.

"Inventive, are we?" She asked, her voice and eyes equally filled with lust.

"Inspired. You'll have to thank my muse."

"I'll be sure to do that." She replied, crawling closer to me, our chests nearly pressed together. Her hot, wet entrance was just above my tip, and she knew how torturously close it was. She teased her slit back and forth across my head, the heat emanating out of it enough to drive a man mad without the vixen attached to it. And I had plenty of that vixen in my line of sight. And wrapped in my embrace. Her lips came close to mine, they too, stopping painfully short of their end game. Her tongue poked out, licking the corner of my lips as a cat laps at milk. Enough. I pulled her closer in my arms, capturing her lips with mine, all the while pulling her down, impaling her harshly. She cried out and I stilled.

"Dear God did I-"

"Don't stop!" She cried out, frantically rushing to move her hips up and down, repeating the motion with great vigor. I grinned. That I could do. I held her hips in my hand, helping her fuck herself on my cock, my eyes greedily watching her, taking in every second of image I was allowed.

"God Phryne you feel-"

"Like home." She breathed. "You feel like home." I smiled. She understood perfectly. She also understood my anatomy quite perfectly. One of her clever, clever hands reached downward, gripping behind her writhing body, and holding my balls with a gentle fervor.

"Christ." I swore, my eyes closing and head tilted back. "Phryne, I-" my words were cut off by the sounds she was making, they were far too distracting to talk through. My eyes flew open and there they would stay until this glorious sight dared to cease existing. One of her hands was massaging me, giving me a sort of pleasure I hadn't even known, the other hand was massaging a part of her anatomy that made my entire mouth go dry. Jesus, Phryne." I whimpered. She was rubbing her clit, head thrown back, lips quivering. It was the most erotic and gorgeous sight I had ever seen. It was... it was my job, I decided in an instant.

I knocked her hand away and replaced her fingers with my own, pinching, rolling, rubbing, frantically giving her the sort of friction she was attempting to find. Her eyes flew wide open and she bit her lip.

"God, Jack, I'm going to-" That was all she managed before a shriek escaped her lips, her entire body going perfectly ridged as she collapsed into my arms, spasming and twisting beautifully. I thrust harder, eager to join her and eager to prolong her orgasm. My fingers rubbed, harder and harder,

"Don't stop Phryne," I commanded lowly. "Cum. Keep cumming." She shook. Her whole body actually shook. She should have been done by now, simply riding out the aftershocks, but no, between my command, the way I was fucking her, and my fingers, she wasn't done yet. She whimpered as yet another orgasm ripped through her body.

"Fuck." She whispered, her voice pitching and breaking as she tried to make noise.

It was somewhere during her third orgasm that I joined her, having to cease my ministrations on her in the moment of perfectly peaceful oblivion.

Moments later, my cock still half hard and still inside her, she bit my shoulder blade.

"Holy fucking shit." She murmured. "Jack..." I kissed her collar bone.

"I love you." I whispered to her.

"I love you." She whispered back. A few minutes later, her voice still quiet, she whispered my name.

"Jack?"

"Yes, my darling." I said, my panting having slowed to simply heavy breathing.

"Do. That. Again."

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 **I'll admit. That wasn't as good as I want it to be. But I also want to actually post a chapter and I've rewritten this one like three times. I'm so sorry it's been a bit guys, and I'm sorry that was subpar smut, but I hope it's okay for you all! I love you guys! Please review or PM me with commentary, suggestions, feedback, criticism, or anything! xoxo - E**


	7. The Armchair

**Thanks to all reviewers! I really appreciate the feedback! You guys are all great:) I'm not really sure where to go with this now...there isn't really a major source of conflict for our pair to deal with (I mean her parents are in conflict but it's not like a driving force here) so I'm just gonna sort of...write. And see what happens. Any ideas - please review or PM me!**

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I held in a grin as the knock on the door sounded. I was mortified. Correction: I SHOULD have been mortified. Mr. B - or maybe Dot, that could be Dorothy Collins at the door just now! You, Jack Robinson, should be MORTIFIED - was knocking on the door, standing out in the hallway, requesting entrance. Entrance to a room I was currently residing in, naked, with my lover (!), the lovely Phryne Fisher, both of us, whom were at present _quite_ naked. And had just woken up. Her lying upon my chest, a place she hadn't moved from since round 5 (! - I would have to focus on the whole, five times in one night situation later, I was quite certain I hadn't expected to keep up with the vigor of his youth, but then again, with such an... _inspiration_ as Phryne Fisher, I supposed I should have expected a bit more motivation). We were so exhausted, we had finished, kissed each other, reminded one another for what must have been the HUNDREDTH time that we loved each other, and fallen asleep. With me still half inside of her. And we had remained that way. All night. (Morning? We hadn't fallen asleep before the rays of dawn were poking through the curtains and the sun looked to be quite high in the sky just now, perhaps it was more appropriate to say that we had remained that way all morning though it didn't have quite the same delicious tones to it that all night had.) And now, having been woken up to a knocking on the door, I was greeted with the delightful surprise of something that had become quite regular during my acquaintance with a certain Lady Detective, a morning friend, shall we say? Standing at salute, and quite ready to have attention paid to it. (Still inside her. Hard. It was safe to say number 6 was well on its way.)

"Miss Fisher, Detective." Mr. Butler's voice called out, seeming completely certain that it wasn't a mistake to assume that I was also present in Miss Fisher's boudoir. A sleepy Phryne's head shot up off my chest, her hair poking every which way, and she smiled at me, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose.

"We're a bit-" she flushed a bit. Phryne had just blushed. I had just been there as Phryne Fisher blushed. "Disoriented?" She said, sounding more as though she was asking a question that giving a command. I widened my eyes at her and looked down at our bodies before meeting her eyes and whispering.

"I feel perfectly oriented."

"Oh hush." She said with a grin. "Perhaps tea can wait until we come down for breakfast?" She asked Mr. B, louder.

"Very good miss." You could almost hear the smile on his face. "Only, it will be tea time in a moment, shall I whip up some omelets for tea instead of sandwiches?"

"How utterly inventive of you, Mr. B!" she called out. "I think that's just the ticket!" As soon as his footsteps led away, Phryne erupted into giggles.

"I thought I was the inventive one." I said, pouting at her, my hands running over her hips.

"Darling if you're looking for me to give out place ribbons, rest assured, you'd certainly win the blue, though if it's quite alright with you, I thought I'd save my poor butler the anxiety of listening to me say he's nearly as inventive as my wonderfully brilliant lover who has quite satisfied me into the next decade."

"While I appreciate your obvious discretion, I should like to mention that I doubt it is on Mr. Butler's behalf that you curb your tongue, as that man is quite unflappable if you will."

"You're right, of course. It was my own feminine sensibilities that I was worried about."

"Yes, that seems highly more likely." Our tongues were quite occupied for the next few minutes with a sort of back and forth conversation that had nothing to do with words. Was this sex? I was inside her, stiff as a board, and we were embracing, kissing, running our hands over each other, but we weren't moving... _down there_. So was it actually -oh. Okay. Apparently now we were moving. This was _definitely_ sex.

"I don't ever want this to stop." She groaned into my neck as she thrust herself forward, our hips jutting against one another forcefully.

"I'm glad you think so highly of me but I'm afraid I'm going to need to take a break at some point my dear." I breathed back, pulling her back and forth along my length, my head thrown back against her headboard.

"Not _this_." She clarified, thrusting with her words for emphasis. "Us wanting each other so desperately it hurts. Needing to be together always. I don't ever want it to end." She was worried. About us. I was too. I didn't want her having to be faithful to ruin her spark, to destroy her. But I also knew I couldn't share her, and that her leaving would kill me.

"Me neither. I don't want it to ever end."

"Okay. Then it won't." She decided firmly, pulling me in for another kiss. Who was I to argue with her?

* * *

"Phryne," I murmured lowly.

"Is something the matter, Jack?" She asked innocently, well... innocently if you ignored the context of her slowly exposing more and more skin. It was late, we were the only two in the parlor and it had begun as an innocent sort of motion, not at all suspicious. Her wrap had been flung on the back of her chair as she leaned forward to move her chess piece. Then it was her shoes, kicked off as her feet were tucked up under her. Jewelry made its way to the table, under the guise of simply shedding excessive formalities now that we were alone. Of course I started to notice when her dress began to unbutton itself. Now her entire decolletage was on display, in fact the majority of the lingerie that had been hiding beneath her garments was on display. The top of her dress was undone to her waist and her hem had been tugged higher and higher until there was a full five inches of skin visible above her garters.

"Several things of great matter to me come to mind at the moment."

"Indeed? Well you seem quite serious, almost offended my darling, so please, let us discuss here and now what upsets you so."

"Upset is not the word I would chose."

"No? Let me try another then. Perplexed?"

"That would insinuate that I am unfamiliar with what is happening, and in fact I find myself in a pleasant state of familiarity."

"Aha. Disoriented, then."

"On the contrary, my dear. My orientation has never been quite so clear."

"Intriguing!" She exclaimed. "Perhaps that is it, much like I with this game, you, my dearest Jack, are intrigued."

"While I am intrigued, I find that the word you were looking for, was warning my dear. I was using your name as a warning."

"Ah. Warning. Next time I shall be certain to guess all the boring words first so I am sure to get it right. Tell me Jack, what am I to be warned against?"

"I am warning you, that if this shedding of clothes does not cease, I shall be forced to have my way with you here and now without thought or care to the fact that any one of your staff or friends may come bursting in your parlor at any moment." Her eyes shone brightly, twinkling a little something extra at my words, smiling coyly."

"I fail to see that as a problem, my dear."

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"Do you see that as a problem?"

"Had you asked me an hour ago I most certainly would have."

"And now?"

"Less and less so with every inch of skin that greets my eye." Phryne stood, and walked over to where I sat, situating herself between my legs, dropping her dress off her shoulders, to lie on the floor at her feet.

"I'll be sure to do something about that then." She murmured. My hands found themselves quite without provocation from me, resting on her hips, pulling her towards me, so that my lips could attach to her hip bones and kiss them, gently, just above the line of her silk underwear. Her chemise was gone, in place of it, the much more modern brasier, holding two of my very favorite body parts of hers in place, while exposing as much of them as was possible.

"So lingerie then." I commented as I pulled her tightly to my body, tracing her body lines with mine.

"Lingerie. Do you like it?"

"Very much so. But..."

"But what?"

"I don't think you're going to have much use for it."

"No?"

"No. Every time I catch sight of it, I'm likely to rip it to shreds with my teeth." She shivered against me, grinning wantonly.

"I'm afraid I'll need a demonstration." And I was every so happy to oblige. The brassier was only too easily torn with a bite and tug, ripping it away, exposing her beautiful breasts to my hungry lips. Thoroughly distracted henceforth, I was forced to use my fingers to tear apart the underwear that rested on her hips. She gasped delectably and I smiled up at her.

"Jack." She begged breathlessly.

"I know." I murmured back, freeing my member and readying it at her entrance. She thrust down, crying out as we joined. I growled, biting her collarbone possessively. Her fingers wove through my hair and held my head against her sweet smelling skin as we thrust together, quickly christening her armchair. We came quickly and fitfully, as close together as we could, quieting a bit after that. I held her in my arms and inhaled her scent, praying to whatever God there was a thank you for giving me this incredible, delicious woman.

"See?" She murmured then. "That wasn't so hard."

"Actually," I hinted suggestively. "I do believe it still is."

* * *

 **It's a shortie but as I said...I'm a bit low on the whole "ideas" thing so... yeah. Please give me some prompts or something! Otherwise I may just wrap this up with an epilogue which would also be fine! (Cause then I could start a new story!)  
**


	8. An Innocent Enough Piano Part I

**Author's Note: I'm baaackkkkk!**

* * *

"Have you seen Phryne?" I asked Mrs. Collins, quietly, attempting to avoid any attention that may be drawn away from the colossal argument in the middle of the room and onto me. She shook her head without even meeting my gaze, her eyes fixed upon the spectacle they were making, her lips parted in absolute shock. I glanced about again. She'd been here earlier. I'd heard her yell something at her father as I'd opened the back door and let myself in. He'd yelled something back, and then it had been only the dulcet tones of her parents that I'd been following on my way to find her. Only she wasn't there. She must have stepped out sometime between her angry plea for calm, and her mother throwing a Portuguese vase at her father. Instantly my heart clenched nervously. She was the strongest person I had ever met, but by God I wished I could hide her away from the pain of watching her parents fight like this. It wasn't her job to fix it, and yet, she was my Phryne, when people were in pain she just had to help. I would do all I could to assist her endeavors into this, but for now, all I wanted to do was find her and wrap her up in my arms and make her feel at peace again. I roamed through her far too large house, checking the normal 'flying of the handle' places first. When she was still no where to be found, I made sure to double check that her very fast, very dangerous car was still in its parking spot. Thankfully, it was. I made the rounds once more. As I stepped out of the parlor, I heard a small noise. A whimper, almost. Ducking back in, I glanced around, the room was empty, but there was that noise again. Treading as quietly as I could, I followed it to it's source, and there, curled up into a ball of person, under the piano, was Phryne Fisher. Her knees were pulled up tightly to her chest, her forehead resting on their peaks. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, holding herself together. I got down on my hands and knees, and crawled over to her. After settling in beside her, I pulled her close to my chest. Instantly, her position changed and she melted into my embrace. One arm wrapped protectively around her while my other hand entwined itself in her hair and stroked her head softly.

"It's going to be all right, Phryne." I murmured to her softly. "I promise you."

"Oh Jack!" She cried out quietly, sounding more like a damsel in distress than I'd ever heard her. "Am I horrible?"

"What? Of course not my darling! Why would you think such a thing?"

"They are so clearly in pain and need my help and all I want to do is kick them out and ban them from my house forever!"

"My dear if you _weren't_ thinking that I'd be worried. They are the unreasonable ones. You have done far more for them than any other child would, believe me."

"They're my parents and I love them and I just want them to be happy, but this is getting ridiculous!"

"Allow me to speak with them, Phryne. I shall make them see that if they must argue, they must do it in an adult and respectful manner."

"I couldn't throw you to them, Jack."

"You wouldn't be. I would be walking over to them." I pressed a kiss into the crown of her head as she nestled even further into my arms. "I'm quite good at settling down unruly citizens. If only there was a job where I could utilize that on a daily basis..." She laughed through a few tears and twisting her head around, smiled up at me.

"Has anyone every told you how utterly perfect you are?"

"Not this morning." She reached out and held the sides of my face delicately in her hands.

"Jack Robinson. You are utterly perfect. And I can't believe my luck." She then pulled my face down to hers and kissed me gently. We found ourselves pleasantly occupied thusly for the next few minutes until she very suddenly pulled back, anxiety clear in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Promise me something Jack, promise me that no matter what happens we won't be like that, that we'll love each other forever and even when we fight we'll still love each other and treat each other well and our fights will be about making our relationship better not about beating the other person and winning." The words tumbled out of her mouth quickly and impassionedly. I propped her up a bit so that I was looking directly into her eyes as I spoke, slowly and carefully.

"Phryne Fisher. I will love you until the end of time. And even though you are infuriating, and you never listen to me, and you drive me to the edge of madness, I will still always love you. And as the man hopelessly devoted to you, I swear that through every fight, every argument, through every moment when you've scared me half to death and I lash out at you because of it, I will be putting our relationship, putting _you_ before something as trivial and non-important to me as winning. I swear to you, that as I go on, loving you forever, and fighting with you, I will never treat you like _that_ , and I will always, _always_ be your best friend first." She was crying again and I had to wait a moment for her to wipe her eyes to finish. "Phryne Fisher. I swear to you, that what we have no will never end, only grow better, and that my love for you, will only grow stronger. I adore you with every part of my being and I know that you are another part of me. I could sooner cut off my limbs as leave you behind. So yes, Phryne my dear, I promise you, that no matter what happens, we will never be like that."

"I was so blind." She whispered.

"About what?" I asked gently, inhaling her scent happily.

"When I met you, I thought...well a few things my handsome Detective Inspector, but when I involved myself in your cases, picked up my new hobby as it were...Jack, I thought that I would get over you quickly. I don't involve myself with married men, and whatever flame I felt for you I thought I could douse, just like that."

"And?" I prompted, smiling down at my lover.

"You have infiltrated my very soul. I cannot live without you. I know it won't be easy, I know _I'm_ not easy Jack, but I want you, just you, for the rest of my life and I want to feel like this forever. I don't have the words to say it as eloquently as you. I'm a bit overcome by emotion it would seem, but...I feel the same as you do, my love, and God help whomever tries to tear us asunder."

"I'll be sure to let the countless ladies who fall at my feet know that. Oh wait. That's you with all the hopeful suitors..." I trailed off with fake seriousness. She laughed again.

"How do you always know the exact right thing to say to me to make me happy Jack?"

"Because I'm brilliant." I teased.

"You are." She replied, taking a deep breath. "I suppose I should come out of hiding now."

"If you like, if not, we could stay here a while. It's rather cosy, all wrapped up with you under a piano."

"No, no I should go back and be the adult in there. It isn't fair to leave the children on their own."

"I rather think your parents deserve it at the moment."

"Not those children, Hugh and Dot."

"Ah. Our children."

"Precisely."

"You make a good point."

"So did you, however, it _is_ rather cosy all wrapped up with under the piano." Her eyebrows rose suggestively and I made quick work surveying my surroundings.

"Children now, we always return here later. Much, much later."

"After all the children are in bed?" She asked.

"I'll be sure to find some floor pillows."

"Oh we hardly need that."

"You will, actually. I plan to make you spend quite some time on your back, just there." I nodded to a spot a few inches to her right.

"Reclined?"

"Among other positions. Pillows allow us more creativity."

"Your innovation is one of the things I love about you, Detective Inspector."

"I'll bring my best tonight, my dear." She bit her lip and I could feel her pulse racing excitedly as my fingers gently caressed her wrist.

"You always do." Our lips were moments from touching, our eyes locked on each other, my breath was coming out in near pants at this point. I wanted her. Here. Now. I should just - CRASH.

The sound of something glass breaking followed by Dot's shriek of horror forced us out of this moment.

"The children." I prompted, reaching up to straighten my tie. She'd been playing with it, like she always did, and as much as I teased that I looked ridiculous after leaving her side, I secretly adored it.

"I may kill them." She warned.

"Not something you tell the man who needs plausible deniability to get you off."

"Darling, I learned long ago that when you're involved, it doesn't take much to get me off."

"I meant the murder investigation."

"I meant sex."

"Yes. That was clear."

"Mmm." She replied, a purring noise deep in her throat as she brushed off her dress. "Looking forward to the next."

"Murder investigation or sex."

"Both."

* * *

Thank goodness for Mr. B. The glass pane of her new coffee table was already mostly cleaned up by the time Phryne and I entered the room. He'd sent Mrs. Collins off to fetch tea for everyone, to calm them down, he'd said, but I think everyone but her knew he was giving her some space to calm down. At some point between my arrival and my re-entry to this room, my Senior Constable had arrived and Mr. B had put him to work keeping Burt and Cec away from Mrs. Fisher, a task which was no small feat. Burt was nearly desperate to be the one to go after her husband and teach him 'a lesson on appreciatin' what he's got when he don't rightly deserve none of it' and Cec seemed equally as keen to go comfort the crying Mrs. Fisher in her moments of despair. I didn't feel it appropriate to point out that for all her sobs, Mrs. Fisher's face seemed to lack so much as a single tear.

"Would everyone please _cease their racket?!"_ Phryne spoke loudly, increasing her volume for the second part of her sentence. Instantly Burt and Cec fell silent, and she earned a small nod of approval from Mr. B. With a small, forced mile, she continued. "It is barely four in the afternoon and I find that I'd rather prefer that my neighbors not be forced to listen to such a commotion on such a lovely day. Mother, Father, I understand that you are both hurt and that you are both angry, and you both have reason to be so, however throwing my possessions and permanently harming my ears will do nothing for either of those problems. New rule. If either of you raise your voices into any form of speech resembling yelling for the rest of the day, father I shall call in all the debts you owe me which, I do believe would send you straight to debtor's prison, and mother, I shall be forced to relocate you to your sister's home." The Baron looked reasonably aware that she meant to words she spoke, but her mother's face was priceless.

"Prudence? Oh Phryne you wouldn't dare."

"You have given me quite the headache and I find that I am loathe to continue listening to this argument. In addition, were it not for this dispute, I would currently be happily ensconced in the arms of my most excellent lover, someone I've missed quite a lot since being forced to leave him for your benefit, so understand me when I say, Jack alone is enough inducement for me to banish the both of you." I should be embarrassed by that. Or at the very least blushing. Pride should not be my primary reaction to that. But it most certainly was.

From then on, the argument became increasingly more productive, actual issues being flushed out of the woodwork, tears and raised voices happening much less frequently - to clarify, The Hon. Baroness Fisher was not the one shedding tears. It appeared her husband was more inclined to those emotions than she. - and only three times did Phryne have to threaten to make a phone call to her aunt to reign them both in. By dinner time they were barely speaking, but the words they did exchange were much calmer, and had exponentially less venom in them. As we all stood about the parlor after dinner enjoying a drink or two, I couldn't help but let my eyes drift over to the piano, and more importantly, the space beneath it.

* * *

 **A/N: So next chapter - smutty? I'm thinking yes. If you really really don't want it to be smutty, review/PM and let me know. If you have any ideas/requests for beneath the piano sexytimes, review/PM. If you have any ideas for future sexytimes, review/PM. If you have any reaction to this chapter at all...review/PM**

 **Love you guys! xoxo - E**


	9. An Innocent Enough Piano Part II

**Author's Note: You're still reading? Wow. You're the best:) Warning: Here there be a touch of smut and a pinch of emotions.**

* * *

Her parents were packed away in separate rooms which Phryne had had the foresight to lock. Mr. B was out with his friends for the evening and wouldn't be back until very, very late. [More importantly, when he did return he'd be using the back door and going into his personal suite, without stepping foot into the rest of the house.] Dot and Hugh were back at their own home now that it was finished being painted, and Jane was still at boarding school for a few more weeks. Was I missing any of her humans? Oh yes, Cec and Burt had also gone home.

In essence, we were completely and utterly alone without the threat of an interruption to distract us.

Phryne poured me a cocktail, and one for her self and we wordlessly toasted to the success of the day. Throwing back what little she'd poured as quickly as I could, I turned to a more delectable use of my tongue. Her neck was soft and warm and always tasted like that indescribable...Phryne. She tasted that taste I associated with my Phryne.

"Mmmm, Jack." She breathed out the words. "That's lovely." It was a compliment. I knew it was a compliment. I knew she meant it - her words were not gentle platitudes which she reached out for the benefit of beefing up my ego. She meant it. My ministrations were lovely.

Only, that was to be expected of DI Jack Robinson with his short list of lovers and buttoned up personality. Sex with me would be describable as lovely. There was nothing wrong with that. The compliment would do for many a night of lovely love making. But tonight, I had something a bit different in mind, something that was abjectly less...fluffy. Lovely would be lovely enough in the future, I thought as I nipped down hard on her delicate skin making her gasp, but tonight, tonight was a different story.

I pulled her flush against me and delighted in her groan. I ground my own arousal into hers and she made several nondescript noises of appreciation.

"Jack." Her voice lilted out quietly.

"I believe we had a date with the piano." I spoke quietly in her ear, watching as goosebumps rose up on her arms.

"Indeed." She replied, her voice alone enough to seduce any man. I turned us so that her back was to the offending furnishing and walked her backwards towards it. She began to crouch down, ready to get under it as we had been earlier that day, but before she could, I gripped her hips tightly and set her atop the piano. She gasped in surprise as I nestled myself between her legs. I pulled her to me and allowed my cock to rub itself against the warmth of her legs' embrace. I pulled back her dress, in a manner that could never be described as gently and smiled as I heard the satisfying noise of the fabric ripping. Exposed to me, I reached down with my thumb, pressing against her opening. She was wet, very wet even... but not dripping. I teased her opening with my fingers, playing with her sex but never pushing any part of me inside of her. Her skin was flushing that delightful shade of pink and I could see her eyes growing glassier as she focused on the sensations, tuning out the rest of the world. My cock teased the inside of her thighs and she squirmed into my touch, her lips emitting the most delicious series of noises.

"Jack!" She keened, her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers gripping the edge of the piano lid so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

"Yes?" I asked, using the nail of my thumb to trace her inner lips.

"Oh God, please!" She begged. I rather liked it when she begged.

"Please what?" I prompted, waiting for more.

"Inside, please." I leaned forward, my breath hot on her ear.

"Which part of me?" I asked.

"Your cock, please!" She begged.

"Hmm." I replied, contemplating, as though my own cock wasn't as desperate to be inside her as she sounded to have it there. "Not yet." She let out a groan of frustration that was quickly cut off by the gasp tat occurred as I shoved two fingers inside her harshly. She moved her hips forward, just a touch, to suck my digits even further inside, her wetness now dripping down the rest of my hand. I began to thrust them hardly, opening them up against her tight walls. Her body fell back gracefully against the piano, lying down, hips upon the edge, legs spread wide to accommodate me. I bent over and latched my lips to her clit, sucking it in my mouth and tonguing her, hard. She cried out loudly and all at once, without notice she came, hard. The taste of her changed then, a bit more bitter than her lubrication had been, but I reveled in it just the same.

"I'm sorry," She gasped out between heaving breaths. "I wasn't expecting to cum, I should have warned-" I silenced her with another lick of her slit, and she sucked in a shuddering breath. "Please-" She begged. "I'm so sensitive." A 'lovely' sort of man would give her a break, allow her to recover. "But I was more into the 'sweet Jesus, holy shit' sort of accolades tonight.

I pulled my fingers out but before she could take another breath, I'd plunged my ready cock inside of her. She'd screamed then, and I'd paused to see if maybe my desire to please her had driven me too far. She was biting her lip, her face scrunched up, and her body convulsing quickly.

"Phryne?" I questioned, hesitantly.

"Oh God, don't stop!" She gritted out. I grinned and moved my hips, thrusting in her once more. I fucked her. Hard. I relished in every scream, every moan, every writhing movement her body made, as I proved that I was every bit as good as her previous lovers. She came. Three times, before I did, I noted proudly, and then, after I was sated, my lips turned to hers - as well as a few other carefully chosen locations on her body, and I made her cum again. As we lay in the glorious aftermath, our clothes scattered about the room, the piano marked with sweat and... other liquids, in a manner of interesting and rather uniquely inventive places, I pulled her to my side and kissed her temple.

"Lovely, hmm?" I asked, unable to keep the shit eating grin off my face.

"Is that what that whole thing was about?" She sighed out, breathless. "I'd admonish you for the foolish thought that you are anything less than the greatest prize of my life, no matter which adverbs I use to describe your lovemaking, but I don't think I have the energy to admonish anyone just now."

"No."

"Hmm." I said with a grin. "Interesting."

"What's so interesting, detective?" She asked, rolling onto her stomach, her arms reaching out to rest on my chest.

"If I'd have known that doing that generally resulted in getting you to remain silent and passive, I'd have done so ages ago." Her eyes alit with a light of mischief that I couldn't bring myself to regret just yet, flashed teasingly.

"If I'd have known that the promise of my _temporary_ silence could get me _that_ , well Detective Inspector, you'd have had your peace and quiet years ago."

"Don't be ridiculous, my dear." I teased, my fingers wrapping in her hair. "No one has peace and quiet when you're around, regardless of your intentions."\

"Jack, can I ask you a question."

"Of course, my dear."

"Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"Do you doubt my intentions, love?" I asked, my fingers now caressing the side of her face. "I love you, body and soul, and I would do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Anything that would actually be of your interest." I amended quickly. "Because sometimes you ask for things that are certainly not in your best interest, and I wouldn't do that because it would hurt you in the long run, and is probably illegal to boot, and if it came down to it of course I would do anything for you, especially if it were really important but I do want to provide some mitigation, or at the very lease some understanding between us where I also make it perfectly clear that I don't intend to put you in the way of excessive harm just because it's stricken your fancy that you want to break into a bank or become a vigilante or some ridiculous nonsense, Phryne and I-"

"Marry me, Jack."


	10. An Innocent Enough Question

**Author's Note: A quickie in between to get us to the next chapter.**

* * *

"Marry me, Jack."

Her words were simple enough. A child could understand them. And yet they made no sense to me. She had cut me off as I ranted on, trying to mitigate whatever I'd gotten myself into when I'd loosely promised her 'everything and anything' because with Phryne Fisher those words actually meant something terrifying and terrible and not that I'd tell her this but it wouldn't take much from her to actually convince me to do one of those terrifying and terrible things and so I'd just been ranting on nervously as she watched, her arm propping her torso up, a small, happy smile on her face as we lay on the floor and then she'd gone ahead and said 'marry me, Jack'. What on Earth could she possibly mean? What was she talking about? I didn't... she couldn't possibly mean... perhaps a joke - a cruel, cruel joke to be certain - but she must know I never expected that out of her. I knew she wasn't the marrying kind. She'd made in incredibly clear. She'd made it so obvious and even if she were the marrying kind, she wasn't about to marry someone so utterly below her station, not just socially, I knew she couldn't care a whit about that, but personally. She was... well.. _Phryne_. She could have anyone she liked. The world was in love with her. She wouldn't want to marry me. She couldn't want to marry me.

"Are you just going to stare at me with your mouth open like that, or are you going to give me an answer Jack Robinson?" She demanded instantly, her eyebrow raising indignantly at my silence.

"I'm in love with you. I didn't know it could be like this. I don't want to have adventures and go off on dangerous missions if I can't do it by your side, or at the very least, coming home to you at night. They all just... you. Jack. You are by my side and caring for me when I'm at my very worst. I don't like to be vulnerable and you make it okay. God, you make everything okay. I love you more than life itself and I want to marry you. Probably not in a church though, because I honestly don't think they'll let us do that at this point. If you don't want that, it's fine, Jack. I just wanted to tell you what I want. And I want to marry you, Jack Robinson."

A few more minutes of silence occurred as I stared at her. She stared back, cocking her head in the other direction. We just looked at one another. Her eyes, and my eyes, bound together.

"Are you quite all right, Jack? You look a bit-"

"Am I alright?" I choked out, too shocked to be embarrassed by how much my voice cracked on those three simple words. I cleared my throat and stared at her some more. "I don't understand."

"Which part?" She asked, straightforwardly.

"The part... all the parts. I don't understand a thing you just said."

"I know you love me too." She replied, unfazed.

"More than I could put into words." I nodded. "But that doesn't mean I magically understand the whims and fancies of Phryne Fisher."

"Not a whim, not a fancy. Truly, permanently in love with you. Want to commit to you. Want to tell the world that you're mine and I'm yours and that we're together so fuck off."

"You-" More silence.

"I want to marry you. You do know what marriage is, yes? I mean you've done it before I didn't think I'd have to be explaining this to you."

"No, no, I understand _what_ marriage is. I don't entirely understand you wanting to get married."

"Oh. Um... Again, I'm going to have to go with I love you and will continue to love you for the rest of my life and I want to spend each and every day with you and commit myself to you. Legally."

"Huh."

"Do you not want to get married? I suppose after the first one went a bit haywire, you might have some negative feelings on the subject, so if you don't want to get married, we can just stay together without the need for that."

"I definitely want to marry you, I just..."

"So let me spell this out. I asked you to marry me. I explained in great detail why I want to marry you. I know that you love me too, and you have also just admitted that you would like to marry me as well. Jack, it sounds to me like both of want to marry one another."

"See, that's the part I keep getting stuck on."

"You look a bit pale, do you feel all right, dear?"

"Hmm."

"Yes, you see that's not really an answer, should I call Mac?"

"No, I _think_ I'm going to be okay."

"Wonderful news. Any word on when I might get an answer to my question? Tonight... tomorrow maybe. Next week. I mean you can think about it all you like, it's a big step."

"Mhmm."

"Am I only going to get incoherent noises from you the rest of the night? Because if that's the case, I can think of a few of your noises I prefer to these... we could get back to making those."

"Did you just propose to me?"

"Well right this minute I proposed we go back to having sex, but before that yes. I proposed marriage. Twice, actually."

"You proposed to me."

"Yes."

"And then I just stared at you."

"That is an accurate summary of our conversation, yes."

"Can we revisit this when I'm not intoxicated?"

"You had one drink!"

"On you, love. I find that when I'm wrapped up in your scent and just, _you,_ like this, I can't quite think straight." She smiled, pleased.

"Very well. I'll propose again tomorrow."

* * *

Tomorrow came and went without an opportunity to speak to Phryne let alone have a discussion of this magnitude. Her parents took up the large majority of the time, and it wasn't until Mac arrived to help her drag the pair of a therapist - a "newfangled, unnecessary employment which will do us no good, Phryne me dear, mark my words", according to her father anyway - that the house gained any semblance of quiet. Of course, now that there was peace and quiet in 221B the Esplanade, there was no longer a certain lady detective with whom I wished to converse. The next day, there was a murder. Embroled in both her parents' lives and the death of one Mr. J. Pereria, Phryne had little time or energy to have that conversation we so desperately wished to have. By the third day, I knew what I wished to say. But first, I had to make something incredibly clear.

"I didn't know you would ever want to get married."

"I didn't either. But to call you my lover, or my gentleman friend, or... whatever people may call our relationship... Jack it isn't enough. You are so much more to me than I can express and I want people to understand that. I want them to see our relationship, and know that you are my world and that we are a family. I want Jane to be able to tell people what you are to her. I want you to be allowed to make decisions for me if I end up on Mac's operating table, and I want you to be allowed to see me if I were in an accident. You are the only person I trust implicitly, Jack. And it's all so... ambiguous."

"Phryne, you must know I-"

"There you are Phryne, my dear!" I had never been so close to committing murder before in my life.

"Baron." She gritted out between clenched teeth. "What did we say about knocking?"

"Ah, well, I'm here now so little good that would do us. I need you to tell your mother something for me."

"You have lips! Tell her yourself!"

"But it would come so much better from you!" This went on and on until once again, we were forcibly separated as I was called off to work and she was forced to stay behind at her parents' whims. I hated to say it, but perhaps it would be better for all involved if the pair simply split up. I knew that the days which followed would occur much in the same vein, and so I decided it was time I take a step back. A step away entirely, perhaps. It was with this in mind, that I called Phryne after work and told her I was taking a trip north for a couple of days. She sounded... disappointed. Sad. I was certain that she saw this as my stepping away, my needing to clear my head and think about the question she'd asked me. Upon her slight prying, I was vague. I didn't tell her why. I didn't tell her what - or more accurately who - was waiting for me up north. Dot had several bags packed by the time I made it to 221B, I didn't press her as to where she'd obtained so much clothing and abolutionary tools for me - as mine were still safely untouched at home save the bare minimum I'd brought here. Instead I'd given Phryne a quick kiss goodbye, glared her father into quiet submission so as to give her a bit of rest as I left, and nodded to Mr. B before hoping in Cec and Burt's cab for the train station.

* * *

"I know full well that the pair of you intend to spy on me and deliver my intended destination to Miss Fisher." I told them straightforwardly as Burt drove. "But I was hoping that you would... well... not."

"She doesn't buy our loyalty, copper." Burt scoffed. "She's our friend. You can't pay us to lie to her."

"I'm quite aware, I thought perhaps I could, however, convince you."

"Why are you asking us to do this?" Cec asked. "Miss Fisher has been in all of your secrets before and you never minded _too_ much."

"I'm going to see my parents." I admitted. "A few days ago-" I sighed, trying to find the words. "Miss Fisher asked me to marry her. I had no idea that was something she was even considering, let alone something she would ever consider. If I had I would have, well, I would have approached things differently. But as it is, she proposed and I was caught unawares. A bit shocked. I reacted... well actually that's the thing. I didn't react at all. She said she wanted me to think about it anyway, and since then, we haven't had the chance to really talk about it and I suspect we won't in the upcoming days as well, so I wanted to make my intentions perfectly clear. I'm going to see my parents to ask my father for my grandmother's ring. I'd like to propose to Phryne properly." Cec grinned.

"You can count on our silence, Robinson." He reached out to shake my hand. "I knew it, you know. I knew that one day you two would get hitched."

"You knew no such thing, just a month ago you said what a pity it was that Miss FIsher wasn't the marrying kind, 'cause the Inspector didn't deserve to die alone."

"You thought that I'd die alone if Miss Fisher didn't marry me?" I interjected. "Without the bonds of marriage was she so likely to leave me?"

"Course not, but if you weren't her husband, she'd go stark raving mad trying to figure out your relationship she'd get into even more mischeif than usual, and she was likely to get herself killed before her 50th birthday."

"You've put an awful lot of thought into this, Cec." I narrowed my eyes at him, curious.

"I've been saying you two were a perfect match ever since that train fiasco, what when Miss Fisher took in Miss Janie, and you helped her to keep Jane." Burt argued something back and the pair went back and forth until the train station.

"Alright, Copper. Say we lost you in the crowd and didn't see which platform you ended up at, okay?" Burt said with a shrug. "Do 'ya think that would work?"

"Splendidly, Burt, just splendidly."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please Review!**


	11. The Journey

My heart was in my throat was I walked up the familiar walk to my parents' front door. I'd done it so many times before, but this time felt... I was about to tell them about the love of my life, and I had no idea what they'd think. My mother had adored Rosie, they'd been close, and my father... we hadn't spoken about the divorce since I had told him at dinner a month after it had happened. I told him. We spoke of sport and how mother was doing. Phryne was nothing that they would expect, and I was desperate for them to love her the way she deserved to be loved. Her own parents couldn't take on that role for her - too embroiled in their own issues to think about their daughter - and I desperately wanted mine to step in and show her the love and family she deserved.

I glanced around the brick building. They'd moved here a year or so after I'd started on the force. Father had come into quite the inheritance and he'd wanted to take Mother to a nicer place then North Richmond. Not that North Richmond was _awful_ by any means, just... he wanted to give her everything he could. It was a lovely house, completely to my mother's taste. Father had even dug her out half a dozen gardens for her to play in when she felt the need.

"Jack!" My little sister's voice chimed out of the bushes I had just walked by. Eyebrow raised, I turned to look at her.

"You are nearly 30 years old. What on Earth are you doing hiding in a bush?" I asked her, attempting to be gruff and intimidating. She didn't believe it for a second. Jumping out of the foliage, she jumped into my arms and hugged me tightly. I kissed her cheek and pulled her close. _God_ I'd missed my sister.

"Jack! I didn't know you were coming!"

"I didn't know you'd be here, Liz."

"Visiting with the kids. Spur of the moment. And you?"

"Question for mom and dad."

"You know, it's really too bad that they haven't invented some device which you can talk into and someone a very great distance away can hear you and then they could reply and you could hear _them._ Then you wouldn't have to travel 2 hours each way just to ask mum and dad a question." Suddenly here eyes grew comically wide and she snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute..."

"You're hilarious." I replied without an ounce of humor showing on my face. "It's an important question. May take a while to explain, cheaper to take the train than to stay on the phone that long."

"What's the question?" She asked eagerly.

"Wouldn't you like to know, little sister?" I taunted.

"Yes, I would that's why I asked, now tell me or I'll sic your nephews on you. They've started to pretend they're assassins and they hit everyone. Hard. Dad's got a few bruises."

"I love those kids but God, Liz. They're insane."

"I'm told all twins are like that."

"And Emmaline? Why is she a menace?"

"Well _she -_ no! Don't get me off topic! What are you going to ask mom and dad?" Her face lit up. "Do you need a loan? Are you poor all of a sudden? Oh! Have you gotten some awful disease and you need help deciding which treatment you'll need - a lobotomy or a personality replacement?"

"That's not a thing, Liz."

"Oh dear God, _please_ tell me you haven't taken up with Sanderson again."

"No, but I'd advise you to keep your thoughts about her to yourself, she's going through a lot."

"Oh is she. I feel awful." She said, her voice completely monotone.

"Her fiance and her father were involved and heavily profiting from a smuggling operation involving young girls they shipped off to perverts and pimps."

"Her father _the commissioner?!"_ She was excited again. If you could count on Liz for anything, it was having a flair for the dramatic, and getting far too involved in other people's business.

"Yes, so be nice."

"If I must. Come on, let's go show you around and give mum a break from her grandkids."

"Wait - you never did tell me why you were in the plant, Liz."

"And I never shall." She looped her arm through mine and dragged me forward. "JACK'S HOME!" She screamed out, alighting several birds from a nearby tree.

"My dearest sister, you get shriller every day."

" _Dearest sister,_ huh? I'll have to tell Dee."

"It's an expression."

"Sure it is."

"Promise you won't tell?"

"If you insist."

"I do." I pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear. " _You're my favorite sister."_

 _"_ YES!" She screamed, excitedly, her face far too close to my ears to be using a volume like that.

"Jack?" My mother opened the front door. "What are you doing here?" She asked, grinning. "We didn't expect you?"

"What kind of son would I be if I didn't bother to surprise my mother every once in a while?"

"Your brother." She replied, pulling me into a hug. "And he and I get on just fine so it's not necessary in the least." She squeazed me comfortingly. "But admittedly very appreciative." She murmured.

"Darling?" She called out into the house. "Didn't you hear Liz? Jack's here! Come out and say hello!" My father strode towards me and held out his hand. I shook it heartily and we exchanged pleasantries and greetings.

"Well come in, dear! We're about to serve tea."

"Speaking of, mother, Jack has a very important question to ask you, so I'll just take the kids round to the store to pick up some ice cream. Hot out today, isn't it?"

"He does, does he?" Mum asked, her eyebrow raised questioningly. "How interesting. And here I thought you just came to see me."

"As Liz pointed out earlier, if it were just the question, I could have called. Clearly my main purpose was to visit."

"Very nice, son. But you'll have to try harder than that. Come on in, I hear the kettle whistling."

* * *

"I wanted to talk to you about something." I began, swallowing hard.

"Yes, we gathered." My father replied, his stoic expression not hiding the laughter twinkling in his eyes at his teasing me.

"I'm not quite sure how to begin." I admitted. "I don't know how you'll react and I don't want to hurt you or make you upset in any way."

"Jack, dear, you're making your father and I nervous. Perhaps you'd be best off just telling us immediately and then we can move on the reaction bit."

"Yes." Still I remained silent. How did I explain Phryne? I didn't want it to seem trite or inferior to when I told them how I'd fallen in love with Rosie. I hadn't even known love could be like this then, but how was I to explain it to them? How could I find the words to even begin describing Phryne? She was more than words could say and I didn't know how to make them see that this was possibly the most important person in the entire world and that I loved her more than anyone had ever loved anyone without sounding like a crazy person?

Just then there was a pounding on the door - breaking into my reverie. "Jesus." I swore quietly. I was too on edge right now.

"Language young man."

"Sorry mother."

"Can one of you get that?" My sister called out. "I'm having a children related problem at the moment." The pounding intensified and my father rose to go to the door. Before he could reach the entryway however, a small, female voice called out angrily.

"OPEN THE DOOR THIS INSTANT JACK ROBINSON OR I'LL BREAK IN AND MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!" My parents both turned to me in shock.

"Is this related to your problem?" My mother asked, reaching out for me protectively. My eyes were wide. I knew that voice. I loved that voice. That was - "Jack! Is this what you came to talk to us about?!"

"No." I replied simply walking toward the door. She was still pounding away when I unlatched and pulled open the oak boards. As a result, she toppled into the room, just barely giving me enough time to catch her. I held her in my arms and narrowed my eyes, for what felt like the hundredth time in this confusing, confusing week.

"Jane. What are you doing here?" She curled up her fist and punched me soundly in the shoulder. Hard.

"What are _you_ doing here?!" She yelled, furious.

"Ow!" She'd punched me again.

"You absolute and complete twat!"

"Language!" I admonished her, setting her back on the floor. "You know damn well we don't talk like that."

"Fine! Vous complétez chatte!"

"That's not actually how you conjugate that, and Jane, it still counts as swearing when it's in French."

"I have been sitting outside for 15 minutes trying to come up with a rationale and reason for what I've just witnessed and I have nothing other than your being a complete tw-"

"We get it! There are impressionable children in this house. You don't need to let that sort of language rub off on them."

"Miss Phryne doesn't believe in censoring language."

"For you. Yes. Because she doesn't want to lie to you and she knows that you should be treated as an adult whenever possible because of your life, and your grit, but there are some very young, innocent children who do not need to know that word, and Miss Fisher also believes in being polite, and well mannered around strangers."

"Are we talking about the same person?"

"Jane- what is going on?"

"You ran away."

"I told Miss Fisher I had to go run an errand that would take me out of town for a few days and exactly when I'd be back. That's hardly running away."

"All week you've been distant and _weird_ and I can tell that there's something going on between the two of you and Miss Phryne doesn't want me to worry so she just told me that you'd sort it out and she'd tell me after the pair of you made any plans or decisions, but then I saw you get on a train this morning and I ran over to Cec and Burt and asked where you were going and they said that you'd bribed them not to tell so I had to mind my own business so I hoped the train and followed you."

"So _you_ ran away." I ran my fingers through your hair. "Does Miss Fisher know where you are? She must be worried sick!"

"I was supposed to spend the weekend at May's, that's why I was at the station in the first place. She doesn't expect me home for two days."

"And that makes this okay?!"

"How can you lecture me on hurting Miss Phryne, when you're out here with your _girlfriend_?!"

"I'm sorry, my what?"

"I watched you and that girl hugging and kissing, and laughing together, and you and Miss Phryne haven't been close in _days_."

"Janie. That girl, is my sister." I turned back a bit to give her a better view of the people who were watching wide eyed behind us. "These are my parents." She flushed bright red.

"15 minutes. And I didn't once think 'sister'." She breathed out, horrified. "My detective skills are rubbish!"

"That's not- actually if I say yes, is it more likely that you won't be breaking into my crime scenes?" She shrugged.

"Probably not."

"Damn."

"I'm so sorry. I just burst in here and called you an awful name and... I've embarrassed you. I'm so sorry. This has all been a big misunderstanding... I'll just... I'll just go..." Before I could protest, my mother chimed in.

"Nonsense! We've just poured tea. You must stay and have some!" Janie glanced at me nervously.

"On a scale from that time I broke that awful vase Aunt P gave Miss Fisher to the time you thought she'd killed herself, how angry are you with me right now?" She spoke smally, and I was sad to see a glimpse of that girl I'd met on the train all those years ago flashing through her eyes. I pulled her in for a hug.

"Vase. And even that's only for the cursing." She hugged me and smiled.

"Then I would be delighted to stay for tea. I apologize for my brash insert into you home." She replied to my mother, the picture of sophistication. "I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course, please, come." We retreated back towards the parlor, but not before my sister grabbed my arm and hissed in my ear.

"Who the hell is Miss Phryne?"

"Have fun with your children, sister."

"Tell me!"

"No."

* * *

"By the time I reached the parlor, Jane was sitting politely and properly, and accepting a cup of tea from my mother, answering her questions with that tone Phyrne had taught her. Proper. Polite. But genuine, never pretending to be someone else.

"Jack and I began our acquaintance," she stopped to think, her eyes darting about as she tried to remember. "Three years ago?" She turned to me questioningly. I nodded. "He arrested me." She took a sip of her tea calmly as my mother choked on her own beverage. It wasn't the answer she had been expecting.

"He arrested you." She repeated. It hadn't been a question, but she was clearly looking for more information.

"Yes ma'am. For thievery, suspected murder, and-" She turned back to me again. "What was the other one?"

"Illegal boarding of a train without a ticket." She looked crestfallen.

"That's it?! That doesn't sound very impressive at all? Can't we at least call it the trafficking of a young girl aboard a train?"

"I don't think that applies as you were the young girl in question."

"Please?!" She begged, her eyes lighting up. I bit back a smile and rolled my eyes, begging heaven to help me against the wiles of this young girl for whom I would give anything.

"Fine. _Smuggling_ a young girl aboard a train." She grinned before turning back to my shocked looking parents.

"There. Suspected murder, thievery, and the smuggling of a young girl aboard the train." She took in their expressions and was quick to reassure them. "Of course I hadn't murdered anyone, I just happened to witness the whole affair, on account of seeing a bunch of jewels that someone else had already stolen, and there is a rather potent argument that stealing stolen property isn't actually that awful. And they were just laying there on the side of the train I'd hopped and no one was coming to claim them so I just took them before hiding away back in the steward's compartment."

"So you _did_ hop the train then." My father asked, an air of seriousness hiding the joke he was trying to make.

"Of course! How on Earth else was I suppose to steal things from people without their notice? When they loose things in transit they don't usually look for a thief so often as an incompetent worker or their own idiocy as to misplace things."

"Jane has since given up her thieving ways, but as you can see the knowledge remains." I added dryly. "I'd also like to point out, Jane, that we only arrested you for about a minute because there wasn't another way to keep you around as a witness. I didn't _actually_ think you'd hauled a full grown person to the top of water tower and hung them there."

"And then Miss Fisher took me home." She beamed, pleased at the memory.

"Yes. And I'm still trying to decide if that has improved your situation or not."

"You aren't as funny as you think you are Jack Robinson."

"Don't be absurd." I said, dryly. "I'm hilarious."

"We've heard quite a bit about this Miss Fisher person." My mother pointed out diplomatically. "Is she a social worker of sorts? A foster mother?"

"Well she's _my_ foster mother, but I don't think she ever would have considered that as something she was interested in doing before."

"She's not particularly... she doesn't _think_ that she's fond of children, but she and Jane seemed to form an understanding from the beginning. They're the perfect match."

"I'm not terribly fond of adults you see, and she doesn't much care for children. But I'm not really a normal child, and she's not really a normal adult." I snorted into my own tea cup, unable to stop the stream of laughter at that statement. "What?" Jane asked, concerned I was mocking her statement.

"I spent the entire train ride over here trying to find the words to describe Phryne, and came up with nothing, and there you have it in a single sentence. She's not really a normal adult."

"She's perfect." Jane insisted.

"Indeed." It was now or never. "Jane, would you like to go give my sister a hand with her children. I think she may be a bit overwhelmed at the moment." She glanced at my parents with a knowing smile. That girl was far too perceptive most of the time for her own good.

"Of course, Jack. Take your time, Detective." She smiled at me mockingly and exited the room. I sat in silence for a few moments before turning to face my parents.

"Perfect, hmm?" My father asked, very likely expecting me to deflect or backpedal as I often did with emotions.

"Entirely." I confirmed, without joke or irony. I was serious. She wasn't perfect in the actual sense, no one was, everyone had flaws. But her flaws - they were what made her perfect. Who she was, the good, the bad, and the terrifying, they made her perfect for me. "I've been in love with Phryne Fisher for a very long time. She is without a doubt, my best friend, and until recently, that was as far as I thought it could go. I finally acted on my feelings a handful of months ago, just before she had to leave for England to help her family. She has since returned and we've begun a relationship. When Jane said that she isn't normal, I don't know how to explain that fully, because without meeting her, there just aren't words. Anything I could attempt to convey would only be this tiny piece of her and you'd come away with an image that is nothing compared to the real thing. She's always claimed fully and entirely that she isn't the marrying type. I went into the relationship with that in mind, knowing that while I was committed to her forever, there very likely would never be a wedding. Something has changed in that regard." I smiled, thinking even now of the look on her face when she'd asked if I would marry her. "Mum I was wondering if I could have grandma's ring. That's why I came here today." Her brow furrowed, confused.

"I don't understand. When I offered it to you for Rosie you said it wouldn't be right, that you wanted to get her something just for her."

"I lied. Sort of. I thought I loved Rosie, but I just couldn't imagine her wearing an heirloom that important to me."

"And this woman, this Phryne - what is she to you that Rosie wasn't, Jack?"

"She's everything, mum. She's... I didn't know it could be like this. If I had known this existed I never would have been with Rosie."

"Just to clarify, what you're saying is that you aren't here to tell us that the Sanderson girl has realized amidst her misfortunes that she is in desperate need of an upstanding husband and has played on your honor to get you to remarry her and put everything behind you both and the pair of you are together again?"

"What? No!" She turned to my father.

"Oh thank God."

"Mum!"

"Darling, I'm sorry, but I know you, and this was clearly about a woman, and I thought if that viper has sunk her claws into you again I don't know _what_ I'm going to do because I don't think I can pretend to like her again! She was horrible Jack!" I stared at my mother in awe.

"I thought you adored her." I said, finally, after a long pause of shock.

"No! We all hated her! She was fine enough it was just... you weren't _you_ Jack. You were this other person for her and you did so much to make her happy and to give her what she wanted, what she needed, and she didn't do shit for you Jack."

"Mother!" I exclaimed. I had never heard my mom curse in her life, but this was clearly a topic which impassioned her.

"I know it was wrong of me because you were going to face so much censure in the church, and it may be the 20th century but many people socially aren't _that_ evolved yet, but I was hoping you would divorce her. Not at first, obviously, I thought, well, he's married her and that's it. You'll just have to love her too. But then when she moved into her sisters and you paid for her rent there, and moved into that awful bungalow so you could afford to keep your wife in comfort despite your own self imposed poverty and angst, I just kept praying that you two would get a divorce so you could stop being so self-sacrificing for her. Your father came home from that conversation you two had and we had drinks! To celebrate! I know that makes me an awful mother but honestly darling, your father had to avoid the subject the rest of your dinner to keep from grinning madly." I glanced at him in shock. He nodded, admitting to my mother's accusation.

"But let's not focus on the shrew, shall we?" He added, cutting off my mother's every lengthening tirade of my ex-wife. "You're in love. And you want to marry her. I do have to backtrack a moment here, you mentioned that she wasn't the marrying sort but that something changed. Jack Robinson, did you get this girl pregnant?"

"MISS FISHER'S PREGNANT?!" Jane screamed out from where she must have been listening in the other room.

"Jane," I sighed.

"I'm going to have a little sister! Or a brother if you could go ahead and try for a little sister if it's a boy this time, I'd really appreciate it. Jack. We could teach her how to pick locks at 3 years old and then when we need to break into somewhere we just send her because no one could blame a baby for knowing how to pick locks, and they'd just assume that it was an accident if she got caught!"

"We are not teaching her to pick locks at all!"

"Oh come on! It would be so adorable! We'd have a lady detective, a burgeoning lady doctor to be, _moi_ , and a baby detective, all in one family!"

"No! You are not teaching my daughter- wait. Back up. Miss Fisher isn't pregnant. We aren't having a baby!" I insisted, turning roundly on my father. "I did not get her pregnant!"

"Awwww. Come on! Why not?" Jane asked sadly.

"Because we aren't married and that would be highly inappropriate. Not to mention I doubt Miss Fisher wants to have any more children than you and if she really felt the need, I imagine we'd be having a conversation about adopting some more street urchins instead of her actually having to give birth. Can you imagine Miss Fisher giving birth." Jane's eyes widened.

"You're right. She will not want to do that." She leaned closer and whispered. "But accidents happen Jack, and I _do_ want a little sister so-"

"Out." I demanded, before she ran back out to help my sister, laughter peeling behind her.

"I didn't get her pregnant."

"Then what changed?"

"She asked me to marry her."

"What?!"

"She knew I was never going to ask because she'd made it very clear she never wanted to get married, and so she asked me."

"And you said yes and now you're getting her a ring! How lovely!"

"Actually... I didn't say anything. I was... completely shocked out of my mind. It wasn't something I'd expected in any reality to happen. So I just sat there, without speaking, for about a half an hour."

"And she still wants to marry you?"

"She's a very confident woman. She was very accepting of my reaction, said it went better than she'd expected, and that I should take some time to think about it. That was three days ago. We've been trying to have this conversation ever since but her parents are staying with us and they are absolute nightmares who care far more about their own issues and making a scene then their daughter and how much she's sacrificing for them, and so we haven't had the time to talk about it thoroughly and I decided that I'd spent enough time without her knowing exactly how I felt about marrying her so I thought I could come up here and get grandma's ring if you'll let me have it still, and propose to her properly."

"I want to meet her."

"Well of course, it isn't like I wouldn't be inviting you to my wedding, even if it is just a courtroom affair."

"No my idiot son, now. I want to come back to the city with you and meet her properly. And if I have to hold off on giving you the ring until I meet her just to ensure that it does indeed happen, then that is exactly what I will do young man."

"Mum, now isn't really a great time. Her parents are-"

"Wonderful. We can help distract them so the pair of you can go out on your own so you can propose properly. See? We'll be helpful!"

Half an hour later it was no use. There was only one course of action my mother would agree to.

"So you're coming home with me. Back to the city. To meet Phryne. And her parents."

"Yes. I'll just go pack now, shall I?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please Review!**

 **P.S. If you are looking for a new fandom - PLEASE check out Still Star Crossed! It's a continuation of Romeo and Juliet and it's on ABC (American ABC) and it's incredible! The network isn't throwing a lot of money at it and its... well it's hella predictable but still nerdy and wonderful and I LOVE it! Please watch and support so they don't cancel! It's an amazing show that really deserves a lot more than the network is giving it so the fans have to intervene! Please! (Plus you're gonna love it!)**


	12. First Fights

**Author's Note: A bit of a fight is broiling...we'd better get it out of the way before Phryne has to meet the Robinsons! A quick update - I'll work on the next chappie as soon as I can! xoxo - E**

"Phryne, we need to talk." I murmured lowly in her ear, a bit trepidly too, as a matter of fact.

"Christ, Jack. If you don't want to marry me, you don't have to marry me! You can say no and we can still be together, there's no need for this nonsensical, absurdly anxious Jack who disappears without excuse for days at a time."

"It was one day." I pointed out ignoring the question. "And this isn't about that." I paused. "The marriage thing, I mean. It is a bit about where I went." Her face softened.

"Oh. Okay. Those topics aren't related, then."

"Not in the way you're thinking."

"You're being quite elusive."

"Not for long, my lovely lady detective." The compliment and teasing grin that accompanied it went quite a way towards calming her ire.

"Very well then, what have we need to discuss."

"My parents are in town."

"Your parents are in town." She was white as a sheet at this. "And that's where you went the other day. Because you didn't want to introduce me yet. That actually makes a great deal of sense. Oh dear God, I never even thought- Shite, Jack I'm a horrible person! We've never even discussed your parents! It's never come up, not once!"

"You're most certainly not a horrible person, Phryne. The reason it hasn't come up is because I've been avoiding it. My father was so stoically silent when I told him that Rosie and I were getting divorced, I had made the decision to separate my love life from them in all future cases but... I took a train North and told them about you and now they're in town and insist upon meeting you and I really owe you something magnificent, I don't think flowers is going to cut it, Phryne, if you agree to meeting them I will..."

"Of course I agree to meeting them, silly! I would have insisted upon it had you not already offered! Shall we have them over for dinner?" She paled even further if that were possible. "Actually, with _my_ parents here... that is that isn't exactly the impression I'm hoping to give off initially, perhaps dinner out?"

"Dinner out would be just the ticket. I'll task Collins with keeping the rest of the Fishers far away."

"Would you really? That would be so much of a help." She bit her lip, like she did every time she was nervous (which wasn't often). "I'm sure I'm not exactly the sort of woman they're expecting, and if they didn't like the divorce part, I'm certain a new lady friend isn't something on their ideal list either, but-"

"No! I'm so stupid I never finished telling you- when I told them, they were thrilled. It turned out my father had to be silent to keep himself from saying something awful about Rosie or saying how much he'd been hoping for us to divorce as that's not a terribly nice thing to say to your son. They were very pleased. Also..." I glanced at Jane, who bit her lip and nodded slowly. "Also they've met Jane."

"They've _what_?!"

"Perhaps you'd like to tell this story, Jane?"

"Well..." She stepped forward shyly, looking up at Miss Fisher, hoping to see some sort of amusement or jovial mischievousness at her tale rather than disapproval or shock. "I was at the train station to see of my friend's brother with her, so she wouldn't have to walk home alone, you remember, when I was to stay at her house overnight?"

"Yes..." Phryne prompted nervously.

"Well I saw Burt and Cec dropping off Jack at the train station and I hurried after them because I remember you telling them to find out where he was going," Phryne glanced at me suddenly nervous. I smiled at her to let her know I was previously aware of this and there was no hard feelings on the subject. This time anyway. "And when I asked them, they said that they'd made a deal with Jack not to tell, and Cec was crying, and Burt was grinning and I thought something might have been wrong, and so... I sort of hopped the train and followed Jack to his parents house."

"Jane!"

"At which point she saw me embrace my sister and walk arm and arm with her in the house so she burst through the front door and accused me of cheating." Phryne's hand flew to her face but not quickly enough to cover her wide grin, her chin quivering with suppressed laughter.

"Sorry about that." Jane mumbled before retreating quickly before Phryne decided to be mad at her about it.

"So as previously mentioned, Jane has met my parents."

"You have a sister." Phryne mentioned, after taking the story in.

"Two, but Dee won't be here, just Liz. Her husband works for the Navy, and he's on a shore tour right now so she's been staying with my parents and enlisting their help with her small army of children. I also have a brother but he and his wife Gemma are living in London where she's from and where he works writing for a newspaper there. His name is-"

"Eddie." Her eyes were wide and she was staring at me in shock. "Eddie Robinson."

"How-"

"He saved my life."

"If you tell me that my brother is one of your old friends,"

"Don't be absurd. It was while I was living in England. I was leaving the telegram office." She smiled. "You'd just sent me a particularly lovely missive and I was too busy reading it to watch where I was going and I stepped out in front of a car. Eddie pulled me back and I ended up toppling over his wife with the momentum of that. We went out to lunch, Gemma, Eddie, and I thought how funny a coincidence that I'd been reading the words of one Robinson only to meet another. But he sounded British to me, I never even thought to mention it. We ran into each other a few times more, he covered the cases I tried to worm my way onto in the beginning, and then when I was banned from all crimes in the city of London, I read his stories to get my fix. Gemma and I went shopping together a few times. She's lovely."

"You met Eddie and Gemma."

"I did."

"I've always wanted you to meet Eddie. I knew he'd like you."

"You aren't angry."

"Why would I be angry?"

"I don't know. It feels weird that I met your brother without you and didn't even know he was your brother."

"You wouldn't have the chance to meet him now anyway. It's good you met him." I paused. "We weren't... we weren't exclusive, Phryne. We'd shared one kiss, I wouldn't blame you-"

"Jesus Christ Jack, I _am_ capable of keeping my legs closed thank you very much. One kiss and several _years_ of buildup. I was already madly in love with you, you complete twit, I wasn't galavanting out with any men in my nearby area, and to be frank, I don't engage with married men you should know that better than anyone." She spat out angrily. "Is that really what you think of me, Jack? My proclivity to sleep with every man who looks my way?"

"Of course not Phryne, and I didn't just mean him, I meant... we hadn't really talked about what happened while we were apart, and I just wanted to make it clear that I wouldn't blame you a whit if you had met someone special or run into an old friend."

"I'll have you know Jack Robinson that I ran into plenty of old friends all across my trip back to England, and not once was I even tempted to have more than a pleasant conversation with them because I was too busy thinking about the man I was in love with back home and trying to figure out how to get back to him at the earliest possible point. Aparently he has no faith in my affections however so the whole lot of it must have been a moot point!"

"Phryne,"

"Don't you ' _Phryne_ ' me Jack Robinson you know damn well what I mean." She paused. A muffled noise through the door alerted us that _someone_ was listening in.

"I was trying to be kind." I murmured.

"Because you assumed I'd slept with someone else!" She hissed back.

"Of course I didn't assume that, I very much so didn't even want to think of that possibility because the thought of you with anyone else now that we're together tears off a piece of my heart, but I knew it would be unfair to assume that you _hadn't_ run into someone who noticed the absolute wonder that you are and was able to offer you comfort and solace amidst your parents' fighting that I couldn't because I was stuck on another continent." I whispered. It was definitely whispering, but it sort of felt like I was yelling at the same time.

"I don't just open up to people like that Jack, you were and are the only one I could ever talk to about things like this. Of course I didn't seek comfort. All I wanted was you. That's why I want to marry you, you complete twat."

"You are the second person whose called me that this week."

"Who else called you a twat?" She asked, instantly distracted from our fight.

"Jane."

" _Jane_."

"When she thought I would cheat. And then when I told her there were children in the house and to watch her language she called me the same word in French."

"She's so wonderfully smart. I am so proud of the young lady she's become."

"As am I. She's going to grow up to be a brilliant doctor some day."

"Indeed. Perhaps Mac might take her under her wing at the hospital, a sort of apprenticeship after she graduates and before she's off to medical school."

"I think they would both love that."

"Hmm." She took a deep breath. "Where were we?"

"I believe you were calling me a twat."

"Right. Jack... I don't know how you don't see it."

"How I don't see what, exactly?"

"You're far too good for me, and you make me better and on top of all of that you don't expect me to change. I love that, that you don't expect me to become a different person, I do, but Jack, you don't seem to have noticed that I _have_ become a different person. And that person doesn't see anyone but you." I rubbed my hand across my face, covering my mouth, unsure of what to say.

"Phryne, that's how I feel about you. Every bit of it. You have made me a better man and you have changed me for better or for worse. You are far too good for me, and to clip your wings would be... I don't ever want to do that." She stepped forward and entwined herself in my arms.

"So don't." She murmured, nestling her face in the crook of my neck and kissing me lightly there. "But know that my freedom and independence, have nothing to do with my sleeping around Jack. That isn't something I want any part of. Not now. Not when I can have you." She smiled like a cat that had just spotted a bowl of cream. "Speaking of things I want..." I grinned, recognizing the look on her face.

"Yes, dear?" I leaned forward to place my lips on her sweet skin.

"What I _want_..." She bit her lip coyly. "Is to go upstairs and get changed so I can meet your mother and father and sister Liz properly." She stepped away from my embrace and I felt the entire world around me grow starkly cold. What.

"Phryne,"

"Also, this conversation isn't over. We need to revisit the part where I know nothing about your family because that is seriously not okay with me. You never mentioned them. Not once, and so I assumed you didn't have one, or that they weren't important to you, or a number of things, not one of them being that you had a small herd of people who are desperately important to you whom I've never had the fortune to meet. I detest that, Jack, and we will discuss it."

"Yes, dear." I cleared my throat and reached down to adjust myself. "We'll also discuss you doing this to me and then just walking away. I'm rather feeling that I detest that as well."

"Don't be absurd. I'm no tease."

"No? My pants suggest otherwise."

"Jack, you should know better than anyone, its the long, drawn out emotions, that yield the highest highs."

"Are you comparing my erection to our romantic relationship?"

"Of course!" I shook my head as she, giggling madly scurried up the stairs. "I'd take care of that before we go see your mother if I were you!" She called down after herself. She may insist that she'd changed in some regards, and I believed her. But at the end of the day, Phryne would be Phryne.

And God did I love her.

* * *

 **Please Please Please Review! xoxo**


	13. A Very Odd, Unexpected Dinner

**Author's Note: Sorry I'm so late - life has been getting in the way!**

* * *

 **Jack Robinson**

I glanced up at Phryne, my brow furrowed. "What in God's name are you wearing?" She ran her hands over the plain, pale green fabric, smoothing the skirt gently and biting her lip like she did every time she was nervous. (Which was not often.)

"A dress."

" _Your_ dress?" I questioned, looking at the utterly un-Phryne garment on display before me.

"Well... Dot's actually."

"And why are you wearing Mrs. Collins' dress, my dear?" She sighed and stamped her foot impatiently, in a very Phryne-esque manner.

"Because I don't have anything appropriate to wear to meet your parents!"

"You don't have anything to wear. In that closet that's bigger than my entire Bungalow. You have no clothing." I repeated evenly.

"Nothing appropriate! It's all too... they're going to think I'm a slut, Jack." Her eyes looked as though they were about to tear up. "I want them to think better of me than that." I stood and went to hold her in my arms.

"They'll think nothing of the sort, and anyone who does think that of you doesn't know you very well, and quite frankly isn't worth your time."

"I _am_ a bit of a slut, Jack."

"Call yourself that one more time, and we're going to have another major argument on our hands, Phryne." I replied, quite seriously. "That word is filled with vitriol and anger, and it comes from a place of hate. I will not let anyone, man, woman, or even my family, attempt to shame you for living your life in a way they all wish they were brave enough to do. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is going to have to face me and I suspect a good number of the Victoria Constabulary, because they've all evidently grown rather attached to you and I suspect would defend you without a thought or hesitation. You've wrapped them all around your finger my dear, and none more so than me. You will do the same to my family and I shall have to suffer the fate of knowing that they love you more than they love me, and that it was all because I encouraged you to be yourself rather than wear Mrs. Collins' dress, but that, my dear, is a cross I am happy to bear, so run off and change because you are being utterly ridiculous."

"You really are too good for me, you know?"

"I am no such thing, now go put on one of your lovely dresses. Or even a pair of pants and a nice blouse, and then we'll go show the world that Detective Inspector Jack Robinson has managed to land a beautiful, stylish, progressive, heiress, with a brain that rivals Socrates and a face that bests Helen of Troy, shall we?" She grinned and rolled her eyes at me before bustling back up the stairs.

"Change of plans, Dot!" She called out ahead of herself.

"Oh thank goodness!" I heard Mrs. Collins call back. "Just wear the blue one!"

"A fine plan, Dot! Could you fetch my navy cloche?" I smiled to myself and picked up the phone, dialing the hotel my parents were staying at to alert them that we'd likely be a touch late.

* * *

 **Elizabeth Robinson (AKA Liz)**

"What are you picturing in your mind, mum?" I asked as the cab stumbled upon the bumps in the road on it's way to the address Jack had given. "Jack hardly said a word! What are we expecting?"

"I haven't a clue, but given our encounter with her adopted daughter, and Jack's history, I would say she isn't a bit like Rosie."

"Praise God above for that." Father muttered under his breath.

"Not the marrying kind, what does that mean do you think?"

"Meant for a nunnery, usually, but I doubt it in this situation."

"Jack called her a thoroughly modern woman. What does that mean?"

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Do you think she'll look like Rosie?"

"No. I think she'll be blonde, with large features, and short. Like a tiny little ball of... whatever a thoroughly modern woman is!" I laughed at my mother's guess. "Perhaps. Phryne Fisher. I guess we'll find out."

"This can't be right!" Mother said softly as we arrived at the address. "This is quite..."

"This is the address, Ma'am." The cabbie said.

"Did you write it down correctly, sweetheart?" My father asked kindly.

"Jack wrote it on a slip of paper." Mother pulled it out and showed it to us.

"45 Village Way, City Central. Diana's."

"That's here, Ma'am." The driver said again, nodding. A valet stepped forward from the lavish looking building, far too expensive for Jack to even think about setting foot in.

"Forgive me, but are you the Robinson's?" The valet asked. My mother eyed him blankly as my father nodded.

"Yes." I spoke up. "That's us. I'm sorry, are we in the right place?"

"Absolutely! Miss Fisher and Mr. Robinson's usual table has been reserved - with a few modifications for the extra guests of course!" He spoke jovially, but with a perfectly proper tone, that of a man who was well trained in service. "Allow me to lead you in, they should be hear to join you shortly, but the owner and chef will likely wish to great you immediately regardless."

"The owner and chef would like..."

"Yes Madam. They quite like Mr. Robinson and Miss Fisher. Family to those two are family to us. Please, come in."

" _What on Earth is going on?"_ I whispered to her mother.

"We've fallen into someone else's life, that's what's going on." We allowed the valet to lead us into the restaurant and take our light coats.

"If you require anything at all, please call upon me. My name is Thomas Platt, and I will be your personal valet for the evening."

" _Personal Valet?"_ My father mouthed at me. I shrugged. We were led to what was clearly one of the best spots in the restaurant and we had barely sat down when a man in a well cut suit hurried over to us.

"You must be the famous Robinsons!"

"Not famous... no." Mum replied.

"Parents and sister to Detective Inspector Robinson?"

"That's us." I replied. He smiled.

"Then here you are famous. My name is Antoine. I own Diana's. Named for my late wife."

"You own this place? It is stunning." Antoine grinned.

"Thank you, my dear. You are quickly becoming my favorite Robinson! While you wait for Phryne and Jack, I shall send out the chef to tell you of today's menu."

"The chef?" Father asked. "Does he always explain the menu to tables?"

"Usually it is the waiters, or in the case of very important people, the valets, or myself. However, Alexander has come up with an entirely new list of specials for the Robinson party, and he wishes to tell you of them himself."

Antoine walked away and I glanced towards my parents in shock. "Honestly, who is this woman, and what has she done to Jack's reputation to make him so..."

"Famous?" Mum asked, nodding towards the valet as she did so.

"Exactly!" Just then, the door swung open at the front, and I caught a glimpse of Jack. Just a glimpse, however, because then I saw her and it was like I couldn't drag my eyes away. She had dark hair, almost black, that gleamed and shinned, perfectly coiffed and trimmed so that the short bob was cut off in a perfectly straight line that I suspected could cut someone. Her deep blue dress swung happily about her knees, and I was able to take in her long, shapely legs jealously. She wore heels that made her nearly as tall as Jack, but not quite. Upon her head was a stylish cloche hat that was certainly attention grabbing. The neckline was far more daring than I would feel comfortable wearing, but I couldn't deny that it - and the clinging fit of the dress - was beyond stylish and suited her well. Without going too far into exacting details, it would be safe to simply point out that she was stunning, stylish, and moved with an air of confidence that ladies didn't often wear. Instantly the pair were flocked by people. Three or four waiters, a few valets, Antoine, rushed to kiss the her on both cheeks and then much to my surprise (and immense joy) he then went on to kiss my brother's cheeks as well. Oddly enough, Jack looked... used to it. He greeted Antoine and hugged a few of the girls who were working as well. Hugged them. Jack. My brother. Comfortably hugging girls who giggled madly much to his Miss Fisher's amusement as they ran away. She gripped his arm and smiled at him like he had just set the sun in the sky. This was not the war torn brother who had come home. This was not the man who felt immense guilt when his marriage failed. This was not even the burgeoning happiness I'd come to see in him of late, that sort of hopeful glance around which told all that he had something in his life worth living for.

No. This was a new person, a person I hadn't seen since long before the war, before Rosie, before adulthood had stripped him of his constant hope. This was my brother. I reached out for my mother's hand and smiled at her.

Unfortunately, she did not return that smile. Her face was still, and saddened as she looked upon them. Oh Jack. What have we wrought?

* * *

 **Peter Robinson**

To say she was stunning would be an understatement of gross proportions. It wasn't just beauty, though there was that in spades. Her clothes, her mannerisms, the way she walked, it spoke of an innate sex appeal that I couldn't quite reconcile with my younger son's past choices in women. It was in seeing that, that I realized there must be far more than what met the eye to this woman. Jack wasn't the sort to fall for a pretty face, or a bit of skirt that came easily. There was more to this Phryne Fisher and I couldn't wait to find out what that was. My wife, on the other hand... she looked pensive, upset almost. I hadn't a clue why, this woman made Jack happy and we'd spent half the train ride nodding to each other to display our complete thrill that he'd found love, and a love that deserved him by the sounds of it. Her sudden cold expression and anxious mannerisms concerned me, but given our location I could hardly pull her aside and ask what was wrong. Instead, I took her hand in mine and squeezed it gently. The squeeze that came back was of massive proportions and had I been any less in control of my actions at that moment I would have cried out at the unexpected pain.

"Darling?" I asked quietly as the woman took Jack's arm, gazing up at him as though he was the only one who knew her, and the pair of them walked towards us.

"I'm nervous." She murmured back. "Oh God, we should have waited. Let this happen on it's own time. I don't know why I insisted... Christ almighty, Peter. What have I done?"

"Jack!" Liz called out as he approached rushing forward for a hug. He gave her one readily, leaving one hand, however, in the posession of one Phryne Fisher. Before he could introduce her, the valet came over and pulled him aside to say something. She forged ahead anyway.

"Hello!" She spoke cheerfully.

"You must be the famous Miss Fisher!" Liz said, teasing her.

"Infamous, more like, if you've been hearing about me from Jack." She replied, picking up on the teasing tone despite her lack of knowledge on what the joke was. "And pleas, call me Phryne." She corrected instantly. "I've been so looking forward to meeting you all. I'm afraid I've pestered poor Jack all morning to tell me everything about you, but I somehow still have a million questions." Liz stepped forward and held hugged Miss Fisher.

"Phryne, I'm Liz. If you ever wish to talk about a different Robinson, I'm happy to share the myriad of stories I've collected over the years to humiliate and embarrass my brother." Miss Fisher's eyes lit up mischievously and her eyes darted to Jack's and then back to Liz.

"I will most certainly be taking you up on that offer as soon as possible!"

"Hello, Miss Fisher." I shook her hand. She had a tight grip, not the delicate, simpering greeting of most ladies now aday. That was the grip of a businessman. Or business woman, I supposed. "My wife, Lydia."

"Mrs. Robinson!" She shook my wife's hand as well, smiling broadly. "I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you. You've raised the most incredible son. I hope I do half as well with my own daughter." Her smile turned wry at that. "Whom, if I understood their babbling before, you've met." Lydia finally smiled at that.

"She was charming."

"Unfortunately I don't think that was the case at the initial moment of acquaintance?" Miss Fisher asked, almost nervously.

"As a woman who loves her own mother quite a bit, I very much so respected her defense of you, Miss Fisher. Her cursing was what won me over."

"Mrs. Robinson I find I like you more and more each moment I spend with you." Miss Fisher replied, clearly pleased with Lydia's answer. Lydia herself breathed out a bit of air she'd been holding in, calming now.

"Jane is your only child, correct?"

"Yes. I've just finished the process of adopting her from her mother. I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to speak of her as my child, instead of just my ward. The entire legal matter took months and that was after having to plead with her birth mother!"

"How dreadful! One might think that with all the children who need parents, when the system finds a good match, they would attempt to make it right as soon as possible." Liz added, shaking her head.

"I will admit, it would have taken a great deal longer had Jack not pulled a few strings." She said, lowering her voice as though she were revealing some great secret. She turned to Liz. "Jane said that you had three charming children. She wouldn't stop gushing about how much she adored them." Liz colored.

"They're at that age, Miss Fisher. The twins rile their sister up and I'd be upset with them for it if I didn't know she'd already riled them up first. They're quite rambunctious and altogether too curious for their own good." Liz said proudly. Miss Fisher grinned back.

"So it is just as Jane said - everything children aught to be."

"Precisely."

"Has Jack any other nieces or nephews?" She asked. "Your other sister, what is Dee short for? He never said."

"Lydia. Named for my mum." Liz said with a grin. "But it got confusing with the pair of them when dad would call out for one or the other, so no one's called her Lydia since she was a very small child. She has two boys. And I suspect she's preparing for another child but she won't confirm!" Liz pouted, clearly still upset her sister wouldn't confide in her. She'd confided in us, however. She was only a month late, and so she didn't want to tell everyone yet, as the last time she'd told us all too soon, she'd miscarried.

"We've a brother too, but he doesn't have any kids."

"Not yet." She said with a knowing smile. I took note of that as the conversation continued. "Jack and I discovered just this morning that I've already met your other brother." Phryne added as Jack made his way over to the table, finally joining us.

"You've met Eddie?" Liz asked quickly. "But he's in London!"

"I've just come from there. Met Eddie and his wife completely by accident and never had a clue he was related, Robinson's a very common name you see so I had no reason to believe he was any more related to Jack then the butcher down the road, and talking about home and my friends..." She glanced at Jack with a soft smile. "I found it easier to focus on my mission instead of retelling a story that just made me miss them all the more. It would appear the world is a smaller place than I initially assumed."

"Phryne, Jack!" A thick accent I couldn't place cut into the conversation. We turned to see a hulking, dark skinned man walking quickly towards the table. Miss Fisher instantly leapt to her feet.

"Alee!" She cried out before the large man swept her quite literally off her feet, swinging her around before setting her gently back on the ground and turning to heartily shake Jack's hand.

"How are my favorite detectives in the country?"

"Alee, you know as well as I that Phryne's your favorite and you only include me to be nice." Jack said smiling kindly at him. I was a bit surprised at that. I'm not entirely sure I would smile kindly at any man, particularly a large, aboriginal man, who swung my wife around in the air like that. This Alee turned to the table.

"You must be the rest of the Robinsons. Please, you may call me Alee, I will be your chef today. I have created a menu just for you. If you would like to hear it, I can recite it for you, but what I usually do for my dear friends and best customers is just bring them out a masterpiece and surprise them."

"Today has been filled with a great many surprises already," Lydia admitted. "I see no reason to break with tradition." The man grinned and nodded, thanking Lydia and kissing Miss Fisher's hand before returning to the kitchen."

"It was nice of him to come out during the day." Jack muttered under his breath towards Miss Fisher. She smiled and nodded.

"I'll have to send Burt and Cec over with something nice."

"Forgive me for saying this Jack," I began, mimicking their quieted tone. "But are you not afraid he's going to try to steal away your lovely Miss Fisher?" I teased. She rose to the bait and smiled, the silent laughter reaching even her eyes.

"I've told you, Mr. Robinson, it's Phryne, I insist, and I might respond to you by saying I'm rather more afraid he'll try to steal Jack away from me, than Jack has any need to be afraid of him in that cause." My eyes widened and I looked in the direction the large, heartily masculine man had just retreated to.

"Oh. I hadn't a clue."

"Alee is charming. He doesn't often come out of the kitchen as some of the patrons might get a bit irritated if they knew an aboriginal was cooking their food without their notice, but Alee makes the best dinner you could possibly imagine so even when he does, they wouldn't dare leave. He's quite a good friend of ours."

"I can see that. In fact it appears everyone in this restaurant adores the both of you. I'll admit, it wasn't quite what we were expecting." Miss Fisher laughed.

"Antoine's brother went missing a while back, and he was a... close friend of Alee's. Every time Alee went to go ask the police down at City Central to investigate, they did for about a day, decided the evidence was inconclusive, and gave up. That's when they came to me. I basically railroaded Jack into taking the case alongside of me, he was having a particularly boring week after all."

"Only you think of a week without murders as boring, dear." Jack interjected good naturedly. She waved him off and continued telling the story.

"As it turned out the evidence was _far_ from inconclusive, and the other policemen were having a bit of trouble seeing past the large, aboriginal man looking for his boyfriend." She beamed in Jack's direction. "Your son, as it turns out, has less trouble focusing when there's important work to be done."

"Miss Fisher!" A sudden burst of action drew our attention back to the door.

"Burt. Whatever is the matter?" She stood, instantly on guard.

"You'd better come quick. Baroness tried to make her point with a knife and missed Rich. It's Jane. Mac's there now but she's been hurt and she's calling for you."

* * *

 **Author's Note: PLEASE REVIEW! xoxo - E**


	14. Robinsons Meet Fishers

**Author's Note: An super long chapter because I love you super much! Hope you enjoy! To admit - I wrote this off the cuff and there's been very little editing so if you spot something that could use improvement please point it out! Thanks my darlings! xoxo - E**

* * *

 **Peter Robinson**

"Miss Fisher!" A sudden burst of action drew our attention back to the door.

"Burt. Whatever is the matter?" She stood, instantly on guard.

"You'd better come quick. Baroness tried to make her point with a knife and missed Rich. It's Jane. Mac's there now but she's been hurt and she's calling for you." Her face went white. Jack instantly stood and I watched as their hands reached for each other without a second thought. It was instinct for them, reaching for one another when they needed the support.

"I'm so sorry." She said, meaning the words for us, but unable to focus on her audience. "I have to go. Please excuse me. Jack you should stay, entertain your family, they came all this way after all." She said the words, but I could tell she didn't mean them.

"Nonsense." My wife spoke up. "We'll all go. You need to be with your daughter and at the very least we can help keep these people you're speaking of at bay while you see to Jane."

"Yes, fine." Jack spoke up, taking charge of the situation as he pulled Miss Fisher to his side. "Burt if you could take my family to 221B, I'll drive Miss Fisher home."

"Sure thing, copper. Cec and Mr. B and Dot haven't left Jane's side, except for when Dot got up and nearly beat the shit out of the Baroness. She's actually managed to make the pair of them shut up for the time being, so I'd get home while that lasted." It was clearly meant to be a joke, but no one was really in the laughing mood at the moment. A Baroness had thrown a knife and hit Jane? What was a Baroness doing in Miss Fisher's home in the first place? Not to mention, why she'd be throwing knives. Perhaps 'Baroness' was just a nickname for this woman.

"I'll drive Jack." Miss Fisher murmured anxiously. "It'll be faster."

"The hell it will be." He growled back, not at her, just sort of, in general. "It's Jane. We're about to break half a dozen laws so I suggest you pin your hat on extra tightly Miss Fisher."

 **Phryne**

How awful a person was I that in the midst of my worry for Jane, I thought for a moment that this was not the impression I wanted to give the Robinsons? I was desolet. I had been imagining every possible scenario from a mere pinprick, to her death, and yet, I had half a second to be embarrassed that the Robinsons would be meeting my parents in this state, and would be seeing how inept I was to leave Jane with them. She hadn't been alone, I'd thought with Mr. B and Dot and Cec and Burt, how bad could it really be? They'd keep her out of the way and keep her sane. That was before my mother started throwing knives at my father. I was livid. I'd tried to keep them together long enough but they'd hurt Jane. They could both go hang, and I wouldn't give a damn. If by some miracle, Jane survived this and my mother didn't face trial, I would personally make her life a living hell. If Jane was injured, I would destroy them.

Jack hadn't been lying about the speeding. His foot was pressing the pedal up against the floor and he'd already run two stop signs and we were gearing up for the third. A truck was slowly moving through the intersection, and in a bit of driving that was absolutely inspiring, he swerved, jumping the Hispano up on the side walk, nearly mowing over a handful of ladies who had seen him coming due to his loud use of the horn and had hurried out of the way with a spattering of screams, and swerved around a street lamp to hop back down onto the road after he cleared the truck's length. We were nearing the top speeds that the Hispano could manage, and I could feel the heat coming from her engine. I was beyond grateful that Jack understood my need to be home immediately. I was beyond grateful for the maniac look in his eye as a police car pulled out behind us and attempted to pull us over and without even a moment's hesitation, he ignored them and kept driving.

 **Liz**

"Holy shit!"

"Language, Elizabeth." My mother admonished me as I cursed.

"Did you see that?! Jack just jumped a curve and nearly killed a bunch of women!"

"Jack is an excellent driver. I'm sure they're all fine."

"That car of Miss Fisher's is an excellent ride." The cab man, Burt, she'd called him, assured us. "Handles like a dream. If he's going to start driving with tricks and cheats now, it's a good car to use." He had no sooner said as much, when a police car fled out behind them and we watched, from behind the stop sign as the fancy looking car sped off into the distance and out of sight, being followed much more slowly by an officer.

"Is Jack going to be arrested for that?" Father asked after a brief pause.

"Inspector probably outranks whoever it is, yeah?" Burt asked, scratching his head as he too took off from the intersection at a brisk pace. "I'm sure it'll be fine." I wasn't quite as sure, but my careful, collected, buttoned up brother, highly respected Detective Inspector was speeding off to save a little girl and to ease the burden on the woman he loved. That wasn't something you saw everyday, so if he was so insistent on running down civilians, who was I to stop him.

Our Taxi cab took up a highly illegal speed itself and hastened on it's journey to this mysterious 221B, likely the home of Miss Fisher and Jane. (Although I had noticed that the pair of them kept referring to it as their home and more than once had referenced his 'coming home' or residing at her place in passing. I wasn't about to point that our in front of our parents - Mama didn't raise no snitch - but I also wasn't planning on letting him rest until all was explained.

By the time we reached our apparent destination. A police officer was leaping from his car, rushing up to the fancy looking car Jack had sped off in, and both doors were swinging open, readying Jack and Mi- Phryne to exit into the... holy shit _extremely_ grand home they were parked in front of.

"Miss Fisher," The police officer began without looking up as he approached their car. "You know perfectly well you can't go driving like a madwoman and -" He suddenly stiffed, and stood straight up. "Detective Inspector! You were driving! Forgive me I had thought Miss Fisher had gone off on some crime fueled rampage again and I thought-"

"Jane's been hurt." Jack replied, tossing the man the keys. "Park Phryne's car round back." It was as if Jack had said the magic words. Indignant shock and surprise turned instantly to hardened steal in the officer.

"Has an ambulance been called? If not, allow me to make the call. My sister is married to one of the operators, I'll get right through."

"We've no idea what happened, Constable Holt. I will inform you if that is necessary immediately." Officer Holt jumped into Phryne's car and sped it around to the back of the building, while Phryne fairly flew into the grand house. Jack paused long enough to gesture us in, and Burt led us through the front door. It really wasn't the time to admire the furnishings, or the home, or the artwork... but along with brilliant and beautiful, Jack had nabbed himself a damned wealthy socialite by the looks of things! Would wonders never cease!

"Phryne, darling," A soft, boarderline seductive voice greeted us as we followed Burt into the parlor. "You must know, I had no intention of-"

"Mother if you say another word before I ask you a direct question you will find yourself in prison for a _very_ long time."

"Phyrne," The voice replied teasingly to Phryne's bitingly furious threat.

"No. You're right. Prison would take too long. Speak again, and I will cut your tongue off myself."

"Now Phryne, that's no way to speak to your mother-"

"SILENCE." Phyrne yelled. "From both of you." When we fully entered the room the oddest tableau I had ever encountered was spread out before me. Darling Jane was lying on the floor with a redhead whose face I couldn't see leaning over her. Jack and Phryne were both falling to their knees at her side, in the process of reaching for the girl's hands. A woman who looked very much like Phryne, with longer hair, a bit of age, and a slightly harder look about her eyes sat in a corner where a man dressed very much like Burt, but taller and with a softer countenance stood directly in front of her, all but daring her to move from where she had been placed. A wealthy looking aged man in a ridiculous cravat sat in the opposite corner of the room, guarded by a small woman with her hand on a crucifix, and murder in her eyes each time she glanced at the man.

"Janie, it's us." Jack murmured, sounding very much like my own father when I fell out of a tree at age 16. "Darling are you all right.

"I'm okay." A small voice piped up. "But I kept asking Doctor Macmillian all these medical questions about my wound and she told me to stop moving because she was going to have to probably do some stitches and I wanted to watch but every time I craned my neck to see, she couldn't get a good view of anything so she eventually told me I had to close my eyes and lie still and if I did she'd let me watch a surgery she has next week." I could visibly see Jack and Phryne relax as Jane cheerfully chirped on and on. And I couldn't even see their faces, it was all in their countenance.

"Mac?" Phryne asked the red head. She glanced up and I was surprised to see that she was in face a she. I supposed that made me less of a feminist, my surprise, but then again, I was happy she was a she, and proud of women for making advances like this...I'd have to work on my preconceived ideas that society had pounded into my head about what women could and couldn't do.

"A flesh wound only. I wanted to give her some medicine for the pain, but she insisted that she'd... already taken something by the time I got here." The doctor gave a significant glance to the taxi driver who shrugged. "She was in pain. I couldn't find any pills, and I didn't know which ones would be safe for a child anyway."

"So you decided that bootlegged liquor would be safer?" Phryne asked slowly.

"I didn't give her enough to do more than dull the edge. She's fine."

"Completely fine." Jane confirmed contently.

"We'll talk about it later." Phryne replied tersely. "Back to this flesh wound, Mac."

"Blade hit her leg. Went through the skin, but all muscle and bone are perfectly intact. No major arteries or vessels nicked. Just bleeding all over your Persian rug. The wound has been debreided and disinfected, not that it needed much of either. Just cleaned the edges of the cut up, and now I'm stitching it together. I'll be done in less than five, including the wrapping. And I'll be back after dinner tonight to change her bandage. She'll have a bit of pain once that pure alcohol Burt gave her has passed through so I'll leave some drugs with you when I go." Phryne looked down at Jane and brought her hand to her face.

"My darling, what happened?"

"They were arguing like they do all the time and I was tuning it out but I realized I'd left my medical textbook from Mac in here so I came in to get it and all of a sudden my leg hurt something feirce and Baroness Knifey over there was looking at me horrified and then Baron of over-reactions started screaming for the police because his wife had murdered a little girl. Dot came running in and nearly killed the both of them. It was hilarious. Mr. B wrapped my leg in clean cloths and Dot called Mac right away. Burt gave me a drink, and then Cec said he'd best go fetch you because you'd be in a right state if you weren't here after I got hurt, and then he's been standing between Madame sniffles over there who keeps bawling - rather unconvincingly I might add - and trying to rush towards me to apologize or something, but Cec wont let her. And the Baron was pacing and ranting and Dot came in and yelled some more and I was laughing about it when Mac came and then she examined me and I think you sort of know what's happened since then." She turned in our direction. "Oh! Robinsons! Wonderful. I was hoping to get to see you again soon! Hello! Welcome to our home!" She said cheerfully.

"Thank you, dear." My mother said. "YOu're quite sure you feel all right?" Jane nodded happily. "Well then Peter, why don't you go tell that nice Constable Holt that he needn't phone an ambulance, the doctor is in and Jane is going to be fine." Mother always was calm in a crisis. "Baroness Knifey, I'd love to know your actual name, dear." Mum said, preparing for introduction so she could properly address the two responsible for this debacle and show just how she managed to raise four horridly independent children all on her own while my father worked.

"The Honorable Helen Fisher. Baroness of Richmond." She replied haughtily. Baroness. That was her real title. That was... Phryne's mother was a Baroness. She wasn't just some brilliant, beautiful, rich socialite (just?), She was also ROYALTY! Jack was seeing an Honorable! What world had we stumbled into?!

"Helen, charmed. I'm Lydia. My husband, Peter, and my daughter Liz. It appears you've already met my son, Jack."

"You're Jack's parents then?" She asked, slyly glancing at my father. "Well that makes sense." The other man began to pipe up sounding as though he was thoroughly prepared to be indignant, when Phryne jumped in.

"ENOUGH! The two of you have terrorized this house long enough. Aunt P doesn't even come over to visit anymore, and I never thought I'd see the day when I missed her company but at least _she_ is a sensible sort of person who doesn't go around throwing knives just to make a point and be dramatic! Mother. Your incessant refusal to comply to the bounds of your marriage is ridiculous. You were the one who made that decision, to marry him. No one forced you to, it was your choice."

"I was pregnant with you, Phryne, I could hardly have just-"

"Yes, I know. I ruined your life, I get it. You've explained it with increasing fervor each time father goes and spends all of your money!" She rounded on the man in question. "And you! Baron of Rich. You promised me you would fix this, that you wanted to fix this. So I have one question for you. Do either of you still want to be in this marriage? Because if not, I have a very fast car that can get us to the courthouse in a very short period of time and we can get you divorced _very_ quickly."

"How can you even say that?" The Baroness's voice was sharp and angry, and it was the first time it sounded like there was real emotion behind her words. "That is my husband, Phryne, the father of my children, the man I love. I don't want to divorce him! And I doubt he wants to give up being a Baron, so he's not about to divorce me anytime soon!"

"Are you mad, Helen? I'd give up the money and title in an instant if it meant keeping you, but-"

"Do the pair of you mean to tell me," Phryne interrupted his monologue quickly. "That you do in fact wish to stay married?"

"Yes!" The dual answer seemed to weigh on Phryne and in an instant Jack was reaching out to take her hand. She let him as she continued to speak.

"Then why do you fight like this? Mother you threw a knife at him!"

"I didn't aim very well! I knew it wouldn't hit him!"

"NO! IT JUST HIT MY DAUGHTER YOU ABSOLUTE COW!"

"I see no reason for you to speak to me thusly!" The Baroness crowed back, attempting to regain some semblance of seniority or power over the rightfully furious Phryne. "She said so herself, she's fine. God Phryne, you always over react to everything, why can't you be more like-"

"Janie." Phryne bit out. "Why can't I be more like Janie, that's what you were going to say, right?" She asked bitterly.

"Burt," The doctor said quietly. "I'm all finished with this leg and eventually it will need to be elevated, and she will need to rest, but I did promise her a few treats if she stayed calm, so why don't you and Cec take her out for an ice cream before she's banished to her room for a few days, recovering? Don't let her put any weight on it, but a brief adventure out may lift her spirits and help her heal." The two men nodded, quickly hurrying to move her away from the tempest that was surely brewing in this room. As soon as they were out the door, and the sound of the taxi cab started could clearly be heard, Phryne continued.

"Goodness knows you've said it enough times, I don't know why I'm even bothering to ask, but I want you to say it. Say it, right now mother." I was a bit lost. Why was Phryne upset about being compared to her daughter, a girl she clearly adored?

"Janie was a perfect child, Phryne, don't tell me not to miss her."

"I'm not telling you not to miss her mother, I'm asking you to repeat yourself. I'm asking you to tell me again how it should have been me who died that day. Because here's the best part!" She was laughing with anger now.

"Phryne," Jack tried to interject softly but she ignored him.

"I saw Murdoch Foyle. I spoke to him. Jack and I solved the case and found Janie and I learned why it was he did those awful things to all those girls. It was their birthdays, mother. He was looking for girls who were born on_." Helen Fisher's brow furrowed.

"But that's not Jane's birthday."

"No mother. It's mine. Your drunk of a husband couldn't remember which date it was when he went off to submit the birth certificates. Murdoch Foyle took Jane thinking she had my birth date. If your husband hadn't been wasted off his ass at the time, and had gotten those lovely legal documents correct, Jane would be here with you now, and I would be the dead one. So really, mother, you can blame father. Because without him, your wish would come true." I hadn't the slightest idea what was going on but as a mother and a daughter of a damned good mother, I knew that before anything was to be figured out so to speak, her mother would apease Phryne, calm her down, assure her that she was loved and at the very least, that this was a complicated situation, - it surely was for Mum and Dad looked just as lost as I - and then move to the business at hand.

But The Honorable Helen Fisher, Baroness of Richmond, did no such thing. She turned to her husband and eyed him with loathing and anger.

"This is your fault." She repeated. Phryne stood, calmly. Too calmly. She walked to the phone and lifted the handset to her ear.

"The Grand Hotel, please." A few moments later, "Yes, Phryne Fisher here, I need to reserve a room for my father. I know that you have blacklisted him from your guest list, but as he will be locked inside his room the whole time, and as I will be paying the total bill up front with assurances for any damage or other costs he may rack up, I don't think this will be a problem." Another moment of silence. "Wonderful. A taxi with him and his belongings will be there within the hour. He is not to be let out of his room without my express permission for any reason."

"Phryne! You can't do that!" She turned to him, her face devoid of emotion. It was painful to watch. That poor, poor woman. "It is The Grand, or prison, father, take your pick. I doubt there will be as many people trying to kill you at the Grand." He trailed off gruffly, looking between his daughter and his wife, both clearly angry at him for some reason or other. She lifted the phone again.

"Prudence Stanley, please." She said, adding an address for the operator's convenience. "Aunt P, it's Phryne. I need you to take mother." She sighed. "I know. I do, really, but father will be quite literally locked in a room at the Grand, and mother isn't half as awful without him and she is your sister." Another pause. "Aunt P, please." Jack stood suddenly and took the phone from her.

"Mrs. Stanley, this is Jack. I am asking you for this favor. It will just be for a day or two while we get some things sorted over here." He waited for the woman to respond. "You know I wouldn't ask unless it was quite important, Mrs. Stanley." He reached out and squeezed Phryne's hand then. "Very good. Thank you. Expect her within the hour. Again, we are so sorry for the short notice. Yes. Yes I will do just that." He smiled wryly then at something she said. "I will tell them, thank you. Indeed." He hung up and nodded to Phryne before turning to us.

"Mrs. Prudence Stanley, Phryne's esteemed aunt, would like to welcome you to the city and invite you out to tea tomorrow. She heard you were in town and meeting the lot of them, and wished to demonstrate her hospitality and I believe the phrase, proving this family's worth after those poor people encounter my sister and her ridiculous husband, factored in there somewhere." That last bit was directed towards Phryne's parents.

"Miss," Phryne's companion interjected. "Mr. Butler and I are very nearly finished packing the Baron and Baroness's belongings. Without Cec and Burt here to remove them from the house, shall I call a cab to come fetch them?" How on Earth had those two people packed up the entirety of the belongings of these clearly ostentatious people?! They must have trunkloads of belongings!

"Your speed is impecable as always, Dot. Pass my compliments to Mr. B. My parents will remain separate until they can stand to be in one another's company without throwing knives and injuring other people. If you could call two cabs to take them away, I would greatly appreciate it, dear."

"Yes, Miss. Right away." Phryne turned to her parents. "I suggest you make yourselves scarce as the remainder of your beings are packed away, ready to depart my home. Father, it would be prudent to fetch what's left of the gambling money you stashed in my Chinese vase. It now resides in the second cupboard in the kitchen in an empty coffee can. Mother, you wouldn't want to forget the letters you pen to God knows who but never send, as I doubt Dot has had a mind to fetch them from beneath the mattress for you." Her parents seemed to be subdued by her calm vocalizations. They shuffled off, without saying a word.

At that point, Jack instantly stepped forward, opening his arms just in time for Phryne to fall into them. If I had ever been in doubt that their relationship was far more than infatuation, or excitement at the novelty of one another, if I had ever thought this relationship odd, or not quite suited, I would no longer. They moved as if two halves of the same person. They knew one another's next action before they had even begun to take it. They were a team, and they loved each other more strongly then I think even they knew.

 **Jack**

"Phryne," I murmured into her ear as she sobbed silently against me. "It's all right darling. They're leaving."

"I just wanted to help." She mumbled back. I knew instantly what she meant.

"You haven't failed, my dear. It's another bump in the road. Another twist you didn't see coming, but this isn't the end. You will help them, and they will be fine. It's a talent of the Baron and Baroness, you see, they are the ones who always come out the other side, just fine, no matter what. They seem to have passed that trait down to you. Trust me, you haven't failed yet, and you still wont."

"Was I-"

"Absolutely you were right to throw them out. That was appalling. I would never hit a woman but God your mother tempts me." I teased. She smiled, a ghost of a thing, and nodded. Suddenly her eyes widened and she turned to my family.

"Dear God, you'll have to forgive this. I am so sorry, that must have been unbearably uncomfortable for you! My parents are going through a rough patch, and I am attempting to help but it's been... dramatic to say the least. I am so very sorry you were forced to witness that. Where on Earth were my manners?"

"Nonsense, dear." My mother piped up immediately. Families fight. And as important as you are to my dear son, I consider you family. Which means that this was all family business and we are more than happy to help where we can." Phryne smiled softly.

"You truly are too kind." Before she could continue, we heard a loud crash from upstairs. She sighed. "That'll be Lin's vase." She turned to me, the teasing spark in her eyes alleviating my worry for her immensely. "You'll be happy to have it gone, won't you."

"Nonsense."I replied as stoically as I could. "My first order of business on the morrow will be to write to Lin Chung immediately and have another one sent, along with yet another letter detailing his affection onto you." She rolled her eyes and kissed my cheek quickly.

"You will do no such thing. I'm off to save Dot and throw away a beautiful vase. I'll be back in a jiffy." When she made it upstairs I turned to my family, wondering where I should begin to explain.

"That poor woman." My mother sighed out. "I must admit I haven't the slightest idea what's going on, but for a mother to look at a child who is upset like that and just... that poor, poor woman. I shall have to take her to tea, just the two of us."

"You shall have to what?" I asked. "What will that do? No- wait. I should explain while Phryne is upstairs. Phryne and her family grew up in Collingwood. They were obscenely poor and her mother and father wasted away what little money they did have on drink, and parties, and frivolities rather than food or clothing for their children. Phryne often took her little sister Jane out of the house when her parents were fighting, and snuck them into the circus, or whatever other amusement was in town. On one such occasion, she turned around for a second and Jane was gone. She was killed by a madman, Murdoch Foyle and her body was never found. After the war, and the deaths of several cousins, Phryne's parents became the Baron and Baroness of Richmond, making Phryne an Honorable and leaving her to inherit the title after they pass away. She wanted nothing to do with them, and ran off to Paris and a dozen or more other places, leading a full life of adventuring and other... Phryne things. She invested her money well, and rose herself out of poverty without a bit of help from her parents. She is far wealthier than they could even be, despite all they inherited. A few years ago, she returned to Australia to check in on the daughter of a friend, to ensure her husband was treating her well. The daughter ended up murdering her husband and Phryne helped solve the case. That's where she got the itch for solving crimes, though I admit freely she has a great deal of natural talent and instinct. It was my case. That's how we met. She went on to find out that the man who was jailed for murdering her sister was about to get a trial to get out of prison, so she stayed to ensure that didn't happen. He escaped and we had to find out why he killed four young girls in the first place in order to figure out where he was going. He kidnapped Jane, her daughter Jane, in order to entice Phryne into the fold further, and we later discovered it was because he had meant to kill her all along, and had made a mistake. She bears that, that her sister died in her place, always. And it doesn't help that her mother repeatedly told her throughout her young life that she wished it was Phryne who had died." The look on my own mother's face was murder. I could say that. I was a cop. I knew what murder looked like in a person's eyes.

"How dare she." It wasn't a question. "Poor, poor Phryne."

"Don't mention it. Jane, her daughter, is her world now, and this injury... she wants so desperately to be accepted by her parents that she'd do anything for them, but I'm afraid they've crossed a line. She's been patient and letting them run this show for months now, but I suspect things are about to change."

Phryne flounced down the stairs, her parents begrudgingly following, ready to be unceremoniously kicked out of their daughter's home.

"Say goodbye, mummy, dad!" She said cheerfully. "I'll see you in a few days when I've calmed down enough not to want to stab the pair of you every time you speak, all right?"

"Phryne," her mother weedled.

"Out." I growled, stepping beside my love. "Now." Phryne's arm wrapped itself around my shoulders and she turned to me with a smile.

"Detective Inspector I haven't the slightest idea what I'd do without you!"

"I do. And that thought scares me quite a bit actually." I teased. "Come on. I promised my sister ice cream."

* * *

 **A/N: Okay I'm stuck...what should happen next?! Please review or PM me with ideas! xoxo - E**


	15. Here's to you, Mrs Robinson

**I have no idea what to write about. PLEASE send me ideas! xoxo - E**

* * *

 **Lydia Robinson**

"Ice cream on the sea shore. What could be more lovely?" Phryne asked. You could barely hear the forced cheer in her voice attempting to hide her emotions. But you still could, sort of. My heart was breaking for her. A few hours ago I was so intimidated by this woman who had stolen my son's heart and showed up in our lives laughing and casually charming everyone in her path, I could barely breathe. But now... now I could see the forced smile, the gracious charm hiding years of hurt, and way she kept glancing at Jack out of the corner of her eye for reassurance. The poor child had lost her sister, and then had been forced to raise herself, all while living with parents who showed her every chance they could that she wasn't loved. The mother in me cried out for her, but the woman in me was proud. Proud that despite it all she had risen, that despite everything she had shown she was strong, and independent, and capable of more than anyone had dreamed for her. She was the sort of woman I wanted my daughters to look up too, and she was most certainly the sort of woman I wanted my sons to marry. And luckily for me, one of them was going to. She would be good for this family. She was already a breath of fresh air for my son - the woman who brought Jack home from war - now I was hoping she could have the same effect on the rest of my children. They didn't need it as much as Jack, they weren't stuck in some far off place, still hearing the bombs, still seeing his brothers lying dead at his feet - but when Jack had left us and come home incomplete, we all suffered. We all waited for him. We all mourned him.

But he was back.

Because of her.

We needed her. But maybe, she could use a mother too, one who loved her and cared for her and God damn it but I was going to be that for her whether she liked it or not. That's what mothers do. They love you and do what's best for you even when you claim you don't need them to. That's too damn bad because we were going to help you anyway.

Phryne fisher licked her vanilla cone as Liz went off on some tangent about child rearing. Phryne replied in kind and they shared a good laugh at the antics of children. I stood from where I sat at my husband's side, and walked purposely over to her, looping my arm through hers. Instantly she turned and smiled, returning the gesture.

"Do you all mind if I steal Miss Fisher for a moment?" I asked the others, ignoring Jack's pleading eyes to stop whatever I was doing. The rest of them gestured in consent as the woman herself replied.

"I'm perfectly game for a nice walk down the way so long as you stop this nonsense and call me Phryne. God knows you've been privy to enough of my private life for that." She said. The words themselves could have been uncomfortable if almost anyone else was saying them, but she spoke with such confidence and humility, all at the same time, with a hint of humor, it was clear she was simply breaking the ice and claiming not to be embarrassed, even if she was. I smiled. Strong woman indeed, Jack Robinson. Phryne took my arm in hers and we began to walk away from the rest of my family. We chit chatted about the weather and the beautiful waves until we were well out of hearing distance.

"I owe you an apology." I said to begin. Her brow furrowed and she looked most confused.

"Whatever for?"

"When we met I was... awkward. Standoffish. And I know that isn't the easiest thing, meeting the parents. God knows my own experience with that was..." I shuddered and Phryne and I shared a commiserative smile over that. "I was less than welcoming, shall we say, and you didn't deserve that and I apologize."

"Nonsense. I was a stranger, showing up with your son and I know I'm not exactly the girl mothers dream about for their sons," She began dryly.

"On the contrary my dear. Rosie Sanderson, 'isn't exactly the girl mothers dream about'." I couldn't help it, but my lip curled slightly at the thought. "Less personality than a wet rag, if you ask me. Completely boring, and more in love with the idea of a well to do husband keeping her comfortable than the man himself, _that_ is what mothers fear. You weren't what I expected, I'll give you that, but you love my son. You see his heart, and you care for it. That, you'll find, is precisely what mothers dream about."

"You'll hear things about me." She said quietly. "From other people. I haven't exactly been... patiently waiting for Jack. I've lived my life fully and it's likely that you'll hear things. I'm not apologizing for who I am, but I don't want it come as a shock when someone calls me a harlot or a whore in front of you."

"My dear girl. I can hardly fault you for that. It would be rather hypocritical of me." I said airily. She eyed me curiously. "Not that I share such things with my children, but I had a life before Jack's father too. Perhaps not quite like yours, but I imagine we are like minded women. And at the time, I'll tell you it was quite scandalous. I allowed two men to court me without the slightest intention of marrying them. The people in my hometown started calling me a soon to be spinster when I was barely 19, as my reputation was such that it was unlikely any nice boys would wish to marry me. But I thought to myself, well the right boy wont care a whit and he'll love me for me and if he doesn't I don't want a thing to do with him, and sure enough along came my darling husband, a true gentleman, could barely looked at a girl without blushing, and yet he wouldn't let anyone speak badly of me. I took him out dancing one evening and that was it. We've been together ever since." She smiled at me widely.

"Dancing always seems to get us ladies in trouble, doesn't it."

"More often than not." I lowered my voice and winked. "But its the good kind of trouble." She laughed and nodded.

"Indeed." She bit her lip. "You still don't owe me an apology. You've been kinder than I had any right to expect and you were so wonderful, trying to help with my parents and I am mortified that you had to see all of that. They're very... I grew up in Collingwood. And sometimes they forget that we don't live there anymore. They forget that they don't have to fight just to distract themselves from the hunger, or the pain. And they love each other, I know that they do, they just... can't seem to get in step with one another."

"It isn't your fault, Phryne. I see it in your eyes, I know you feel guilt over this, but they are grown ups, and while it is admirable of you to try to help them, or to care for them as they need it, you mustn't blame yourself for the way they are. It isn't your fault."

"It is, actually." She said without emotion, simply stating a fact. "I was supposed to die, you see. The madman who killed my sister meant to take me. Janie she," Phryne smiled, a true smile this time. "She always made them happier. They'd fight and I'd take Janie out to play with Arthur or to go on an adventure to forget it all, and when we'd come back, mother would hold Janie tight and say she was sorry for upsetting her and then she would feel better, and she wouldn't yell so much. And father had a hard time looking at Janie and staying angry. She was too adorable, I think." Phryne teased. "I infuriate them. Janie was like this other person, transplanted into our family to save us all from misery. If she hadn't looked so damn much like our father I'd have accused my mother of the milkman, but she was clearly theirs by sight. I'm too much like them. When they look at me, they see all of their own failures, and all the ways they can't get one another out of their heads and it makes things worse. If Janie were here things would be better."

"Perhaps." I agreed. "I know now is normally the time when I should disagree with you, most adamantly, and tell you that your parents love you just as well as Janie and that things will be better and that everything is going to be rainbows and butterflies, but I don't know your family well enough for that. I do know that if you had died and Janie were here, my son would still be an empty shell of a man, his soul left on some God forsaken field in France. Maybe your parents would be better off with Janie here. But my son would be infinitely worse. My family would still be mourning him, and he would be... I can't express to you how sorry I am that you lost your sister. I'm quite certain that no words I could come up with would ease that burden. I hope you do not take on that guilt as well, but if you are decided upon it, I beg of you, to allow me to share it with you, and to help you carry it. Because I am eternally grateful that you did not die, that you did not disappear before your time, and that your path led you to my son. You are a light in my world for what you have done for him. You have made my family whole again and though I barely know you, I should like to know you more." Her eyes were no longer dry, and they filled with tears, threatening to escape.

"I just wanted to save her." She whispered. "I thought, if we found Foyle, she would still be alive and he would tell the police where she was and she would come back to me. I thought that he would tell me that she was still out there, some lonely adult somewhere and even if I never found her, at least she'd be alive. But instead, he told me where he buried her."

"You found her body then." I said lowly, pulling the poor child into my arms. She nodded against me. "You poor, poor thing. That isn't something anyone should have to endure."

"They dug her out. She was so small. I didn't remember her being _that_ small." She sniffed in, as the tears fell down her face. We sat against the sand dune and she told me the story. "I had climbed into the hole. It was foolish, I'm sure, but I just wanted to be with her, away from everyone else, just... with her. Jack had to practically carry me away. He's such a good man. Better than I deserve to be sure, but I'm not about to let him go when he finds that out." I kept my arm wrapped around her and she let her head drift upon my shoulder as we sat, side by side in the sand, watching the waves take out their anger on the shoreline. "Enough. We must speak of happier things. You pulled me aside for a reason and I am quite certain it wasn't so you could be cried on."

"Again I must contradict you. I wished to speak with you alone, to give you a chance to let out the demons that were chasing through your mind. You are acting, for us, it is kind, and polite, and very genteel, my dear, but you needn't put on a show and pretend to be so carefree and happy on our behalf. You are family, now, and what good is family if you cannot at least be yourself around them?" Phryne smiled and looked up at me from beneath thick, black lashes.

"Jack is very much like you, you know? Caring for others, always."

"He's a good boy, but I'll admit sometimes he lets his propriety get in the way of doing good." Her brow furrowed.

"No. He always does the right thing."

"He does what is right, yes, but sometimes he needs to take a break from that stuff exterior of his, and break a few rules to do what is _good_." She smiled.

"Sometimes he does that too."

"More and more since he's met you, it would seem." I took a deep breath. "Ugh. Like divorcing that awful girl. Yes, staying with her and providing for her was so _noble_ and so utterly Jack, and yes I'm sure many would think it the right thing, but who did it help? Him? Not a bit! He gave everything to her, and did everything for her and all she did was continue to be this insipid idiot who couldn't be bothered to look past her own problems to see that someone else needed her for a change and to be frank, Phryne, I don't like to speak ill of others, I say judge not lest ye be judged and God knows I could be judged for plenty, but could she for one minute stop trying to lord herself over everyone else! Just because her father has a powerful job and her mother is an heiress doesn't automatically make her worth anyone's time! She is one of the most singularly useless women I've ever met." Phryne burst out laughing. A true laugh this time and I noticed my son and daughter look at us curiously. Phryne bit her lip and met my eyes.

"She is a bit useless, isn't she?"

"A bit? She has no skills to speak of beyond ensnaring men and forcing them to care for her. Though I suppose that likely speaks to _one_ skill that as a mother of one of her conquests I'd rather not think to hard about." Phryne clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. "Oh don't look so surprised. Your generation seems to think you invented sex and the jokes that go along with it." I took in her expression, pleased at the joyful shock I saw there. "Perfect. Now that I've successfully shocked you, I see no demons running rampant in your mind. Shall we rejoin the others?" She nodded, wordlessly and we stood, making our way back to my family, grinning madly the whole way.

 **A/N: PLEASE REVIEW AND PM ME WITH IDEAS! I'M STUCK!**


	16. A Nice Day for a Dead Guy

**Author's Note: Really appreciate all the love and support I get from you all! This drabble turned into a story! Look at that! It would have stayed a one shot if you all hadn't kept asking for more and I can't tell you how flattered and touched I am by that! Hope you enjoy the next chapter! Please Review and PM!**

* * *

 **Phryne**

Jack frowned in my direction, more confused than actually upset as Mrs. Robinson and I returned to the fold.

"Why do you look like that?" He asked under his breath so as not to include his family in our conversation.

"Like what?"

"Like... shocked. I don't think I've ever seen you look so... surprised. But happy surprised, not we found a serial killer or a dead body surprised."

"Your mother just made a sex joke." I told him. Now _that_ was an expression I'd never seen on Jack Robinson's face and it was a memory I would always cherish. "Chin up, dear. It was a private conversation between two ladies, it was hardly inappropriate."

"My mum..."

"In other news, she _really_ does not like your ex wife and I think she and I are going to get on swimmingly. So," I raised my voice then, involving the others. "Are you going to continue to look at me like a dead fish are we going to go figure out why a large, terrified looking crowd has assembled down the beach?" He glanced behind him and instantly he went into 'detective inspector' mode. He noticed it too. This was far too alike our last beach adventure, the one where we had three dead bodies wash up on the shore. The crowd had that feel, that panicked, shocked, and yet intrigued feel that crowds of people stumbling on a dead body tended to have. We knew that look well enough by now. Instantly he took my arm and we hastened towards them.

There were times - a very, very few - but still there existed times when I hated to be right. Liz gasped when she saw it and her skin took on an oddly green tint.

"Mr. Robinson, perhaps you'd like to escort your daughter a bit further away?" I asked as calmly as I could. I heard the sound of retching and I noticed a young woman about Dot's age who looked utterly horrified.

"Mr. Graves..." She muttered staring at the body. "Oh God, it's Mr. Graves." I nodded at Jack and he instantly went to her side, offering his handkerchief and consoling her, all while quietly asking her questions about the clearly deceased. I made my way through the crowd and knelt by the man's side. Cause of death was very likely that his head was only barely attached to the rest of his body, though given the only moderate amount of blood stain on his chest, it was also possible that the attempted decapitation was committed post-mortem. There was also a great deal of scratching on his skin, but it was largely superfiscial, not the sort of thing that would kill a man. Drowning was a slim possibility, given the state of his features, but the likelihood that someone would drown a man, drag him out to chop his head off, and then throw him back in was either a brilliant red herring, or absolutely ludicrous.

"Cuff links." The quiet voice of Mrs. Lydia Robinson murmured in my ear as she knelt beside me. That was a bit unexpected, her calm in the face of such a horrific murder, her desire to help, and her willingness to be so close to such a gruesome corpse. I liked unexpected. It made life so much more interesting. "His cuff links."

"They're missing, yes." I noted.

"No." She said. "They're not." I followed her line of sight and found myself looking in the victim's mouth. Two cuff links were shinning in the dusky light. Now _that_ was unexpected.

"There must be some significance to them, some symbolism to putting them there. It seems a rather odd thing to do without reason." I added. Lydia nodded.

"Unless he put them there."

"Why would he put them there?" I asked, genuinely intrigued.

"I was mugged once, shortly after my marriage. I didn't care about the money, but the my wedding ring had been Peter's grandmother's and it meant a lot to all of us. So when I saw them coming, I slipped it off, and hid it under my tongue." I looked at her in awe.

"Actually, that's quite a good idea. We'll have to learn more about these cuff links."

"Perhaps she might be of assistance." Lydia surreptitiously nodded towards a young girl, barely older than Jane who was standing a few dozen yards away, clearly trying not to be seen, but who was looking very intently at the victim. Quiet. Nervous. And very clearly possessing some information that she'd rather keep quiet if her darting eyes and fidgeting hands were anything to go by. Information people would rather keep quiet was exactly the sort of information I liked best.

"I should go talk to her."

"You'll be more help to Jack with this body." She said. "I'll go." She swept up her skirts and quickly made her way away from the crowd. Suddenly, as she neared the girl, she doubled over and pretended to grow quite faint. As if by instinct, she reached out for the girl and used her shoulder to 'steady' herself. I shook my head in awe. I had a lot to learn about the Robinson's, but Mrs. Robinson's acting and clear excitement over solving this crime, may be one my favorite things about her.

* * *

 **Jack**

That man was very dead. Deader than a lot of the dead people who showed up in our morgue. As far as Dr. Macmillan could tell, there were three causes of death. Three, simultaneous causes of death.

"So there is water in his lungs, suggesting drowning, but his head is also cut off, and he was alive when that happened, and there's also a slim stab wound which goes into his stomach, a wound which would have killed him as well." I summarized, wondering for the dozenth time why my family was in my morgue with me.

"Overkill, much?" Phryne muttered, unable to resist the pun. I rolled my eyes and did my best not to smile at her joke. My best, as it turned out, wasn't that good after all."

"Why would they drown him, pull him out, kill him more thoroughly, and then throw him back in?" My mother asked astutely. "Why not just let him drown."

"Maybe it was torture. The first drowning, anyway." Phryne suggested. "To get information, or enact revenge, and then he was stabbed, and then, when he either gave in and told them, or they realized that it was a fruitless task, they chopped his head mostly off and threw him back in, thinking the fish would take care of the rest."

"Likely." The doctor agreed. "But if he was drowned, then we come back to the cuff links and how they were so neatly in his mouth. If he stowed them there the first time, then they would have escaped his lips as they were drowning him and his instincts were to gasp. If he stowed them there post torture but pre-beheading, then they still should have fallen out at some point when he was thrown back in. But if he weren't the one to put them there, if his murderer did that, or someone else, then it was done after he washed ashore which happened after you all arrived for ice cream. Which would mean someone in that crowd did it."

* * *

 **A/N: It's short cause I have no idea where I'm going with this! Literally planned none of this so blame my caffeine induced fingers for all you've just read!**

 **Also PLEASE. I'M BEGGING YOU. SEND ME IDEAS. I HAVE NONE AND I CAN'T KEEP WRITING ON THE CUFF LIKE THIS ITS GIVING ME ANXIETY!**

 **xoxo - e**


	17. So Close

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

 **Phryne**

While Liz had been sickened - literally - by our Mr. Graves's initial appearance, she had since steadied herself and was throwing herself into the investigation thoroughly. Mrs. Robinson leading the way, there were suddenly three lady detectives on the case and I couldn't remember having this much fun bothering Jack. And bothered he was. If it perturbed him that I was constantly throwing myself in dangers way and side stepping the law to get answers, then he was horrified when his mother and sister followed suit. It was the third morning, when Jack and Collins got a warrant for the locked warehouse that Mr. Graves owned under a different name and came barging in only to find the three of us already inside thanks to my handy lock pick, pilfering through boxes of all manner of things, from stashed food, or bird feathers, to cocaine, or bootlegged whiskey that he finally lost it. Mr. Graves was running quite the operation here, with a great number of commodities on offer for his customers. It was fascinating. But all Jack could do was glare, his eye twitching as though he were about to have a stroke. I assured his family that it was a look I was very used to receiving and that all would be well when we'd solved the case, none of us the worse for wear.

The girl Jack had comforted on the beach had tipped us off to his wealth in the first place, admitting after a good meal and a few encouraging comments from the ladies on the case, that Mr. Graves's nephew had knocked her up and he had promised her a great deal of money to help raise the baby and to keep quiet about the child's parentage. It had been extra important that his nephew's proclivities were kept quiet, as the girl in question, was half sister to the nephew, and the whole thing would have put Graves's family in a spotlight a man who ran illegal smuggling operations would prefer to remain out of. She was horrified that her promised payments would cease, and that she would now have to raise the child in Collingwood. That fear I understood all too well. She wouldn't find herself alone or helpless after the case was done, I would be sure of it. The warehouse had led us to something even more interesting... a matching set of cufflinks, just the one pair, in a small box in an office that clearly belonged to Mr. Graves. Without these mysterious cufflinks, I would say that we were all well on our way to solving the case - that we would know what was going on soon enough, and one dashing escapade later, we would have a killer behind bars, proof with no need of confession, and then we'd be home in time for a nightcap.

But the cuff links... they rather threw a wrench into things, as we hadn't the slightest idea of there significance nor who might have put them inside a dead man's mouth, and for what reason they might have done so! It almost seemed like... something from another case, that had been confused and thrown into ours by mistake. But there they were. The cuff links. In the end, Jack found it a suitable job for his mother and sister, visiting the shops in the area to see what they could find out about the cuff links, providing them with a reliable enough story about why they were asking, and ensuring that they would stay only on the 'good side' of town. He needn't find a 'safe' occupation for his father in this case, because as it turned out, Peter Robinson wanted nothing to do with solving murders. So instead, he stayed in my home all day, conversing with Mr. B, and Cec, and Burt, and dear Dottie, and met up with old friends, or took his afternoon at a cafe, or made plans for us for our return home. It was a charming reversal of gender roles and I had to say that I adored it immensely. Jack and Collins were so overwhelmed by the sheer number of females on the case, that I was quite certain they would go mad, but beyond worrying over us, Jack seemed just fine with our presence, and Collins, well, when Jack said something was all right, that something was all right with him.

* * *

 **Jack**

As if my anxiety about Phryne's safety wasn't enough, now Liz and mum were helping on the case as well. The worse part was, they were enjoying it. No, the worse part was that they were good, and I had no excuses to kick them off. I was already consulting one lady detective, and if she added two more to her agency, how could I deny the lot of them? Especially when they were my family? This was intolerable. There was one bright, shining moment: I knew something Phryne did not. I knew who put the cuff links in Mr. Graves's mouth. I didn't know why, God knows I would probably need her help expediting that answer, but I knew who. And I knew that she _didn't_ know who. And while it was childish and petty, I liked to be reminded once in a while, that she wasn't the only good detective in this relationship, and that I did deserve this job without her by my side. Though it would admittedly be a boring and life draining job without her by my side. I didn't want to tell her yet, but the new chief commissioner, a man whose own daughter was a thoroughly modern woman, was impressed by Phryne, and had asked if we might hire her to consult on cases on a regular basis, as a special detective of the constabulary. I had no idea if she would be thrilled or horrified by the prospect, but I knew the offer in itself would give her a good opinion of the new commissioner, and that could be endlessly helpful. Huh. I guess that was two things I knew that she didn't.

 _Back up. Three things._ I thought to myself as I fingered the small box in my pocket that my mother had slipped to me earlier. I smiled. Tonight, come hell or high water or murders or bickering parents I would propose to Miss Phryne Fisher and as soon as I could possibly manage it, I would make her Mrs. Phryne Robinson. Or Mrs. Phryne Fisher. There were no promises that she would change her name. I didn't care. As long as I could call her 'my wife', it didn't matter to me what other people called her.

* * *

 **Phryne**

We were reaching a climax in this case. We had FINALLY discovered Mr. Graves's nephew after a great long search and Collins had collected him and was bringing him in. I had just to grab my scarf and follow the Robinson clan out the door and we would wear this boy down, find out everything he knew. We would either get him to confess, or we would realize his innocence and use his knowledge to find the real killer. This was the climax of the case. We were so close I could taste it.

But then my back door swung open and in walzed half a dozen Grand Hotel workers carrying my father's belongings, and in one case, my father.

"We apologize for the short notice, Miss Fisher." One of them said to me after placing a large trunk in my back hallway. "But the Baron of Richmond is no longer allowed in our hotel. I'm afraid the same rule is posted at about half the other establishments in the city, including most of the lodging sites. You will be hard pressed to find someone who will take him under their roof at this point." He smiled sadly at me. "I really do apologize, Miss Fisher. It is no reflection upon yourself, and you are always welcome with us." He bowed over my hand galantly and flashed me one more apologetic glance before rounding up his coworkers and walking out the door. My father gave a large snore from where he lay passed out on the chair the footman had set him on. He burped in his sleep and I closed my eyes for a moment to collect myself.

"He's asleep Phryne, I'm sure Mr. Butler-" Jack began lowly.

"Yes Miss!" my butler jumped in immediately. "I will have no trouble caring for the gentleman. Please. Go to work. All will be well here." I bit my lip, trying to make the decision.

"I will be here this afternoon as well." Mr. Robinson pointed out. "If Mr. Butler were to need assistance with your father I would be happy to provide it, moving him or whatever else arises. Please, my dear, go on." He lowered his voice and winked. "God knows Jack wont be able to solve this without you." I smiled back and was about to accept when the phone rang. Dot hurried to answer it but I didn't need her to tell me who was on the other end. I could hear my Aunt's hysterical shrieking from here.

"Get me Phryne!" She screamed at Dot. "For God's sake I need her help!" I sighed.

"Go on without me Jack." I murmured, before turning towards Liz and Lydia. "But do be sure you two pay attention to every detail for I have a very good notion that you'll be able to fill me in on everything far more thoroughly than Jack usually manages." He knew I was teasing, that I was only trying to lighten the mood, and as such, Jack was far from offended. He motioned his mother and sister to head out the door before turning back to me and taking my face in his hands.

"Would that I could stay with you for this," he said softly.

"Then you would be a fool for your errand is far more enjoyable. Go Jack Robinson. Solve me a murder and when you return I'll have worked such magic that I will be making tea for my parents who will be lovingly looking into one another's eyes and telling each other all the things they love about each other."

"Darling I'm not sure your tea is going to solve things between your parents so much as poison them by pure distaste." I rolled my eyes and slapped his arm, but he succeeded in making me smile and I kissed him quickly before shooing him out the door.

"Go."

"Yes, dear." He winked before following his mother and sister out to his car and I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling to much as he looked back at me before getting in his car. I sighed and steeled myself for what lie ahead. I'd had a wonderful respite and to be honest, that was all I really needed. A few months with them and my patience and ability to handle the situation calmly had warn too thin. But now I was replenished, and ready to go. They wouldn't know what hit them.

"Mr Robinson, would you be so kind as to assist Mr. Butler with the relocation of my father?" I asked. He smiled at me, in that Robinson way that made my heart feel safe and nodded. "Thank you. The green room I think, Mr. Butler."

"Very good, Miss."

"Dot? Perhaps a thermos of your tea? The special kind, for my aunt to calm her nerves when we arrive?" Dot took my meaning but I knew that Mr. Robinso- Peter. He'd asked me a million times to call him Peter, I may as well practice in my head. I knew that Peter was looking on curiously.

"A touch of whiskey in a strong batch of tea, is all." I told him. "Nothing too scandalous." I quickly put together what I know I'd need for bringing my mother back as easily as possible, and readied myself to make the drive.

"Come on, Dot." I said when she returned to my side with a large thermos. "Another adventure awaits."

"I'm not sure I'm ready, Miss." She admitted. I smiled at her.

"I have a good feeling about today Dot, I just feel that something marvelous will happen today."

* * *

 **A/N: Please review!**


	18. An Innocent Enough Boat Ride

**Author's Note:** I really appreciate everyone whose been kind enough to leave me feedback! I am always trying to improve my writing and hearing what you all like, don't like, and how you feel about everything really helps me with that! Thank you all so much!

* * *

 **Phryne**

I had been right. A good break from it all, a murder case with Jack, and a few new friends in the form of his family were all I had needed! My aunt had taken a good deal of calming down when we'd arrived as her sister's incessant screeching about her husband had been a lot for her to take in. When Aunt P had suggested a divorce from the man, my mother had evidently begun to sob that she loved him and couldn't possibly be parted from him and the entire affair had confused my aunt to the point of distraction. Not to mention, she hated when her sister threw things. Which she did. A lot. The pair of them had been living together, uncomfortable on both sides, as their relationship with one another was much approved when it was carried out over letters on different continents, and they didn't have to be within yelling distance of each other. Aunt P had practically chugged the spiked tea when I informed her of it's contents, and I'd had to bit my lips to keep from laughing at either that, or the shocked look on Dot's face. Dot directed Aunt P's butler and footmen as they loaded my mother's belongings into Cec and Burt's cab. I sat down next to her as she cowered meekly into one of the front parlor settees.

"Talk to me, mother." I insisted. "What's going on? You insist that you're crazy about the man, and then the moment you see his face or think too much about him you go crazy yourself! Talk to me. Tell me what's going on!" She took a shuddering sigh and I realized after a moment that I hadn't seen my mother in this sort of state in years.

"I don't mean to be cruel." She said quietly. "To either of you. I know I'm not the best mother to you Phryne but... you're just like us, you see, me and your father. It was easier with Jane. She was kind, and proper, and to be honest, more like Prudence than like me. It was easy to be a good mother to her. It's harder with you. And that's not your fault. I just... I see me sometimes when I look at you and it hurts. I don't want you to end up like me, and I'm desperately afraid that you will. Other times, I look at you and I see your headstrong father and I worry you'll end up like him. I don't know what to do with you Phryne. And that scares me."

"What does this have to do with father?"

"Nothing! I'm not talking about him! I'm just... I'm trying to say I'm sorry. For the other day. You'd written, Prudence had written. I knew what had happened to Janie, I just... hearing you say it, it made it all so final. It brought everything back and I lost my senses for a moment. I am sorry, Phryne. I wish I could be a better mother to you."

"I'm a big girl mother, I don't need you to 'mommy' me. I just... I want you to tell me what's going on with you and father. It has been getting worse and worse and I... I know he loves you and I know you love him and if you didn't I'd be begging you both to get a divorce because you're both so miserable, but..."

"I love him. I don't want to be with anyone else. But I think... I think he loves _himself_ more than he loves me. And he never... he never shows me that he loves me Phryne. He never... he leaves me alone a lot. And he complains about everything I do. And... I feel that he hates me sometimes, that I've trapped him. I provoke him, and fight with him, and the like, because it makes me so angry that I love him so and he doesn't love me back!" She burst into tears and I sighed deeply. All this for such a small misunderstanding. Neither of my parents were particularly good at showing love. I had a good guess that the reason my father acted the way he did, was because he felt she didn't truly love him either, and that he wasn't good enough for her. He'd always thought that. He acted childishly sometimes because of it. They were fools. But they were fools in love. And I would do all I could to help my foolish, foolish parents.

* * *

The interactions I had with my father upon his waking were not dissimilar. He too felt inferior to my mother, and saw her constant flirting as her way to show him she had options, as her way to dig into his side that she was still desirable, and wanted, and could leave him whenever her heart fancied. Something struck a chord in my heart when he all but quoted her earlier sentiments, saying that he felt she loved herself more than she loved him.

Foolish parents indeed.

Someone pressed a warm kiss to the crown of my head and I looked up, grinning.

"Jack!"

"Hello, my darling." He murmured, reaching down again, his lips pressing against mine this time. "How was your day?"

"My parents are vastly in love and haven't the good sense to tell one another. So tonight, I'll be sitting them down and mediating their conversation."

"No."

"Sorry?"

"No, you wont. Tonight, we will sit them down, tell them that they both love one another, and leave them in a locked room, with nothing that could possibly be used as a weapon, as we make our escape into the night, and you allow me to take you to dinner."

"Jack, that sounds an absolute dream, but I really can't leave-"

"Dot, Mr. Butler, and even my family should you so desire their presence, have already agreed to stay here and moderate if the need arises."

"I couldn't possibly-"

"You could. And you will. I've planned a date tonight, you see. It is going to be rather spectacular, so I expect you to dress up." He winked. Jack actually winked, after which his eyes raked down my body, giving me a rather good idea where he intended this night to end."

"Not that I don't-"

"Because I said so. And it's a surprise so don't bother trying to ring any more information out of me, or any of your staff even though they know because I'm quite certain I've bought their silence and they won't spill a word." He preempted my question of why tonight and what was so important about now, with an answer that both charmed and infuriated me.

"So I'm supposed to wait in quiet anticipation, without a single clue as to what will be happening for the rest of the afternoon, until you decide it's time to pick me up for this mystery date, and even then, I'll just be at the mercy of your whims?" He smirked, pleased.

"Just this once, Phryne. Just this once, I _will_ actually surprise you." I shook my head in wonder as he retreated out of the room with a rather prominent spring in his step.

Not two hours later, Dot was helping me dress in a rather resplendent gown. It was the sort of thing she'd usually purse her lips at if I'd tried to pick it out myself, and yet here she was, suggesting it as the perfect thing to wear. I'd bothered her for a long while about where we would be going, and what was so special about tonight, but just as Jack had said, she was no help. Mr. B, Burt, Cec, even Jane with that knowing smile, had absolutely nothing to say on the matter and denied knowing a thing. Liars. I would find a way to get back at each of them for this. I hated being in the dark like this.

"I can't quite get this tie, miss, could you lift your arm a bit?" Dot asked. I did so immediately, looking down and taking in my form. The dress in question was a mass of silver and blue beading, the patterns dipping and rising across my form, contouring my curves delicately. There was a lot of skin showing both in the front, and in the back of this gown, and it barely reached down to my knees. Despite the rising hemlines in nightclubs, this was cutting it short for an evening gown, so wherever Jack was taking me... well it wasn't going to be a ballroom that was certain. Pity, that. I dearly loved dancing with Jack. The theater was cut out quickly thereafter when Dot refused to give me gloves of any length, along with any of the divine restaurants down in the 2nd quarter. When Dot also suggested I forgo any jewelry, I began to wonder if Jack were about to take me to one of the doggier sides of town... maybe he had found us a good murder and we were about to have to go undercover! How thrilling!  
As my prospects for the evening perked up, so did my mood. I all but danced down the stairs, and a smile wasn't far from my face as I informed my parents of the others earlier sentiments, and told them to talk to one another, no yelling, no throwing, just talking. I closed the door behind me and I sighed happily. I loved going undercover, but Jack really should have given me more time to come up with a persona and a few back up plans. I waited until I heard a knock at the door and biting my lip, I raced forward to answer it.

It was the Robinsons. All of the Robinson currently present in our fair city, _except_ for Jack.

"Oh my dear," Lydia said happily. "You look positively breathtaking."

"Thank you." I blushed. "Please, come in."

"We know you've got a date tonight, so please, don't feel the need to entertain us, but Mr. Butler promised my husband that he would teach him the secret of his roast and I personally cannot wait until there is a man in my own household who can copy such a delicious treat! Mrs. Collins was kind enough to offer to entertain Liz and me as we wait for the gentlemen to be done with their cooking. They promised to feed us when they'd finished anyway. So please - enjoy your evening while we enjoy your beautiful home." I smiled, still unsure, as Liz reached forward to hug me hello before running off to find Dot.

"She's right, Phryne." Peter said in that low voice that made me smile. It wasn't exactly Jack's, but it was close enough that it still made me happy. "Don't think about anyone in this house for the rest of the evening. And Phryne," I looked up and saw the sentiment in his eyes. "You _do_ look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you Peter."

"Miss?" I turned to find Cec and Burt, standing in my doorway in varying degrees of discomfort, wearing suits. Cec looked merely vaguely out of place, but Burt... his face was turning red and he kept pulling at the collar.

"What on Earth are you two doing?" I asked in shock.

"Something that's only liable to happen once Miss. Your copper better not think we'll just do this whenever it's his fancy to treat you to a special night." Burt grumbled. "Come on then. We're your ride?" My eyes widened and I let out a laugh.

"All right then. Let's away."

"Wait! Miss!" Mr. Butler hurried out behind me and handed me picnic basket. "Just what the Inspector requested. Don't you dare look, I'll know if you do." He threatened, giving me the most severe look I had ever seen come from such a mild mannered man. I felt an actual bit of fear in the pit of my stomach, and I decided then and there that as much as I hated surprises, I would listen to Mr. B, just this once. Cec took the basket from me and packed it up in the cab before taking my hand and assisting me into the back seat. The continued their refusal to give me information and instead, entreated me to a story from a rather gossiping man they'd driven in their cab earlier that day. It was intreaging, a wonderful story really, just the sort of thing I usually enjoyed, but tonight, my knee was bouncing on the floorboards nervously and my fingers were twisting around the beads of my dress as they drove. Eventually, we made our way past midtown, and through downtown, across City South bounds, and all the way to the harbor. It was here they parked the car. Burt hurried to remove the basket from the car, as Cec handed me down from my seat. He gallantly offered his arm with a smile, and led me to a pier further down the way. As he turned, leading us onto the pier, I looked around at the boats, black and empty, and wondered what on Earth we could be doing here. If it were anyone other than Cec, I'd almost fear that I was being brought to the middle of nowhere to be killed, but maybe that was simply because I was spending too much time around murders and murderers.

Just then, a small, dim light came to life not 10 feet before me. A few more followed, and before long, a mid sized boat at the end of the pier was lit up, revealing the man of my dreams, standing nervously, his hands tucked into the pockets of a stiff black tuxedo I'd never seen him in before. My eyes lit up and I was keenly aware that as I surged forward to meet him, I was practically pulling poor Cec along behind me. When we reached the boat in question, he held out his hand, bowing low, and offered to assist me on board. Instantly I took it, and his strong arms, safely moved me from the steady pier, into the boat, gently rocking on the waves.

"Miss Fisher, I must say, you look ravishing tonight." He said lowly, only to me.

"And I must say that for the first time in a very long time I feel horridly under dressed." I replied, practically purring. "You look positively divine, my dear." I said, taking in his appearance under the soft glow of the kerosene lamps lining the boats edge.

"Your dinner." Burt harrumphed, handing Jack the basket. He took it gladly and nodded at my red raggers.

"Thank you gentlemen. I will see to the lady for the rest of the evening." They waved a goodbye and returned to their cab. I turned to look at Jack in shock.

"How on Earth did you get them in those suits, I'd like to know!"

"A story for another time." He took my arm and led me to the rear deck of the ship. "All parties are present, Captain." Jack said to a man I hadn't even noticed before. "We can depart as you wish."

"Yes, sir." The man smiled kindly and departed towards the helm.

"Jack, what is this?"

"This, Miss Fisher, is a date."

"A date. On a boat. With a Captain."

"Well I very much doubt you'd like me to steer the boat, Phryne."

"Jack, this is like a story. The sort of thing girls from Collingwood make up about genteel young men and how they woo their ladies."

"I thank you for the compliment, though I think you and I both know I'm approaching an age when 'young' isn't quite the word applied to me, but as I am attempting to woo a girl from Collingwood, I expect to fulfill every fantasy, my dear." I could feel my heart fluttering in my chest and I was more than happy to let him pull me in for a kiss as the boat departed out into the bay.

"Shall we? Mr. Butler has prepared a fine dinner and I would hate to allow it to grow cold." He was acting oddly formal, but for some reason, it suited the situation. I nodded and he led me to a bench beside a table which had been set for the occasion. He pulled a few of my favorites out of the basket and we sat beside me wordlessly, taking my hand in his as we tucked into the veritable feast before us. We had barely finished when a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned to look and much to my shock and amazement a man holding a violin sat in a chair on the edge of the deck, barely visible in the lamplight, and began to play.

"A violinist." It wasn't a question and at the same time, I needed an answer, to confirm that this was all really happening, and perhaps to give me an idea as to why.

"What does the girl from Collingwood think about a dance?" He stood, holding out his hand for me. I looked up at him, amazed. This night was... nothing short of magical. There wasn't a single thing he could do to make it better, and yet, here he was, asking me to dance. I so did love dancing with Jack. The violinist began to play a waltz as Jack placed his arms around me in the correct positions, and I vaguely came to the realization that it was the song Jack and I had first waltzed to together. Just as he had that night, he very nearly swept me off my feet, his eyes gazing into mine so intensely I swore I could feel the heat emanating out of them, and his hands holding me so perfectly I wanted to stay in his embrace forever. I felt as though we were dancing on air, I could hardly feel the tilting floorboards beneath us as they rocked with the waves. We danced and we danced, growing closer with each song until our positions were so close, he was holding me tightly against him, as lovers are wont to do. I was growing dizzy, though I knew it had little to do with the rocking sea.

"I wish I could stay like this forever." I told him, my head falling into the crevice of his neck, his hand slipping to my lower back, pressing me against him. Just then he pulled back, ceasing the 1-2-3 movements that had become our norm. I almost stumbled out of the dance as he stopped and looked up at him, curiously.

"I do to." He said earnestly. "I want to stay by your side forever, Phryne." He reached into his pocked just as he was bending to one knee.

"Jack." I breathed the word, the name which made my heart beat.

"Marry me, Phryne?" he asked, holding out a ring. I was pulling him back up to me in an instant.

"Yes." I breathed out, kissing him deeply. "Oh God, yes." I could feel tears running down my cheeks but I wasn't sure if they belonged to him or me. It didn't matter. I was engaged to the best of men, my best friend, and I'd never have to spend another night or day without him. He was to be mine. Forever.

"Phryne, I-"

"Man overboard!" The call rang out from up ahead and we both spun around to look at the commotion. "Quickly lads! Pull him in!" A sailor hurried back towards us, eyes wide, and out of breath. It made me realize how little I had seen anyone but Jack. There were a whole host of people on this craft I'd never even noticed.

"Sorry to interrupt." The sailor wheezed out. "I'm sure this isn't what you had planned, but there's a body floating in the waves. Cap'n said you were a policeman. I think you should come quick. It looks like he's dead."

"You haven't even pulled him in yet, how can you tell?" Jack asked, instantly curious.

"Well, it looks like he's got a harpoon sticking out of his head." The sailor said matter of factly. I turned to Jack and put my hand on his chest with a smile.

"A murder? Jack you shouldn't have."

"We can't even get through a proper proposal without a murder. Phryne Fisher I swear-"

"-that we'll finish up the proposal evening back at my house after this has been thoroughly investigated." I finished for him. "An engagement night you'll never forget I can promise you, but..." I trailed off, my eyes widening, pleadingly, as I silently begged to go see the body.

"Fine. But first," He took my hand and slid the ring on my finger. I bit my lip as I looked at it. It was beautiful. Stunningly beautiful.

"It was my grandmother's. So don't go loosing it while you look at the dead man." I pulled him in for a kiss.

"You really are the best of men, Jack Robinson. I can't believe I get to marry you."

* * *

 **A/N: Please review! xoxo - E**


	19. The Necessity of Taking a Walk

**Lydia Robinson**

Dear Lord but Phryne Fisher had the patience of a saint. How she had traversed the ocean with these two was beyond me, and I'd only spend a handful of hours with them. I had witnessed their incessant fighting, they're atrocious parenting skills, and the delicate nature of their relationship, but this... this might have been even worse. My husband, daughter, several members of my soon to be daughter in law's household, and I, were sitting in the parlor, sipping tea, and pretending we didn't hear the obscenely loud sounds of an older couple passionately making up for lost time in their bedroom.

"I can't take this a moment longer." Liz finally articulated. "Shall we go for a walk? I don't know this side of town as well, but we could walk South. I'm better accustomed to those streets from when we've visited Jack at work." We were _all_ incredibly quick to agree and we rushed about to grab our wraps or coats and hurry out the doors. Mr. Butler kindly offered to stay, to keep an eye on the place and make sure the couple above us didn't accidentally burn the house down. My husband called him daft in his hearty words of gratitude, but I saw him taking several scraps of cloth and putting them in his ears to drown out the noise. Brilliant he was.

We made our way aimlessly, though definitely in the direction of Jack's police station, and Dorothy gave us an unofficial tour of sorts, pointing out the spots that Miss Fisher liked to frequent, or a place where Jack had solved an important crime, or where they'd gone on a date. It was charming to say the least, particularly given the circumstances of this evening. They might just be engaged by now. Oh, I couldn't wait to have her as my new daughter. Phryne was everything I'd ever wanted for Jack. She pushed him, she made him better, she... she made him happy. What more could a mother want for her son? I knew she'd say yes. Hell, she'd proposed the first time, and yet the pit of my stomach was churning, waiting anxiously for the news that they were officially engaged.

* * *

 **Phryne**

His grandmother's ring. That's why he'd gone to see his parents. To tell them of me, and ask to give me his _grandmother's_ ring. I ran my fingers over the edges for the thousandth time and my heart warmed. This ring meant more to me than the biggest diamond money could buy. It was a family heirloom. It was like the whole family was asking me to be a part of them. It wasn't something money could buy, it was a part of their hearts and they were giving it to _me._ I loved him. I loved all of them. This was... this was the greatest thing Jack could ever have done.

"He looks like he drowned." Jack commented, pointing out the touchstones.

"And yet this knife..."

"Another case of overkill?"

"Unless there is some other correlation I doubt it." Jack countered. "The position of the stab isn't instantly fatal. It's more likely the killer thought him dead or dying and threw the body in before making his escape. Not quite like last time." I nodded. He was right. Besides, the wealthy Mr. Graves and this gruff looking fisherman wouldn't very likely have anything in common. Likely. I had a hunch.

"Can you take us back to shore, gentlemen?" I asked the clearly shaken crew and their stoic captain who, despite himself, was turning a bit green around the gills. "My fiance and I have a murder to investigate." The men made way to return to shore, as Jack hurried into the cabin to radio the harbor master with instructions to call Constable Collins and Mac. I guarded the body, examining him closely.

He wore a raged shirt, sleeves cuffed up, and no jacket. The night was warm so unfortunately his lack of warmer garments didn't pinpoint a time of death. The chill of the water would have changed the timeline on body cooling enough to muddy those waters so to speak as well. I doubted we would have a definite time of death. That was until I glanced at his wrist. A watch, the face cracked down the middle. Just past 6:30. I looked at my own watch. 8:43. Over 2 hours in the cooling waters of the ocean would definitely be enough to chill him this much.I nudged him a bit, to get a better look at his face but when his head turned, I froze.

"Jack?" I called out, my voice coming out higher than I was used to.

"Phryne? What's wrong?!" He asked, hearing the change in my tone as well.

"I think I may have found your 'other correlation'..." I trailed off. "To Mr. Graves, I mean."

"What?!" He hurried to my side and I pointed to his now slightly opened mouth. Stabbed into his tongue, were two perfectly shining, brand new, golden cuff links.

* * *

 **Lydia Robinson**

We ended up near City South Police station, as I could have guessed we would. Liz was leading the way, and fearless as my child was, she often clung to the familiar. We loitered for a bit, catching our breath before turning to make our way back towards Miss Fisher's lavish estate. I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the pleasantries of staying at her home more often in the future as well. I stepped out to cross the street but in a moment of panic, my husband pulled me back on the side walk.

"Darling watch out!" A quickly moving police car whipped around the corner, followed by a nondescript, long vehicle.

"They're on the other side of the street. They were no where near me." I told my husband, pinching Peter's arm teasingly. "You worry too much old man."

"And you, not enough."

"It's Jack!" Liz cried out happily as my son emerged from the car. He dashed around, opening the door and offering his hand to a delighted looking Miss Fisher.

"And you brought our family, Jack!" She cried in excitement, rushing towards us.

"Hardly my doing, Phryne, how would I have known our evening was to end up here?"

"Because you're brilliant of course." She called over her shoulder gaily as she rushed to pull me into a hug.

"Congratulations, my dear." I murmured in her ear, my eyes catching the sparkle glinting off her finger.

"I can't thank you enough, for raising the most incredible man." She said back, her voice heavy with emotion. "I never thought I could love someone like this."

"I understand the feeling." I admitted back.

"Phryne if you don't hurry up, the Mac's going to be done examining the body before you get in here!" Jack called out. Phryne grinned.

"Coming dear!" She chirped before turning back to all of us looking highly mischievously.

"So we're on this utterly romantic boat ride around the harbor, and Jack's being perfectly lovely and he's asking me to dance, and the light was dim and against the fog... it looked like the perfect picture, I tell you, and it was absolutely the most romantic thing in the world and then, all of a sudden, the captain is screaming man overboard and we nearly ran over a dead body! They pulled it up and the knife stuck out of him suggests murder but that's not all! He had two cuff links shoved into his tongue! It's a matching case to our other victim!" She exclaimed. "They're bringing him into the station now - who wants to come take a look?!"

* * *

 **A/N: PLEASE give me ideas! I'm running dry here!**


	20. Newly Engaged Fun

**Author's Note: It's been THREE MONTHS? AM I EVIL? I think I might be. A million apologies. I guess I'm a bit blocked on this murder... meanwhile...**

 **Chapter 20? WHAT? How did my little one shot get here? Mostly 'cause all you all kept supporting me and pushing me to write more. I'm working on a little romance (read: smut) right now (see chapter below) but I'm a bit stuck on this murder so throw out some suggestions my fellow detectives! Looking forward to hearing from you, xoxo - E**

* * *

 **Phryne**

"Darling, you can't be serious." I spoke, dryly.

"My parents are insistent upon returning to their hotel tonight."

"Yes. On _them_ returning to their hotel tonight."

"Yes and-"

"Likely because they understand that as a newly engaged couple we'd like some privacy?" I suggested.

"I..." he trailed off.

"Darling I'd like nothing more than to be alone with you, but your parents-"

"Will stay the hell out of our way if they know what's good for them."

"And your household-"

"Dot is heading home to her own husband, Jane is going to a friend's for the night, and Mr. B is a very, very capable man who is more than able to understand our need for his quick disappearance."

"It's mostly your parents I'm worried about, Phryne."

"Then I'll kick them out and they can live on the street." I hissed tersely. "We're engaged Jack. We're about to start a very long, and frustrating life together. I'll be damned if I get any more _frustrated_ tonight." I hinted, stepping close to him and fiddling with his tie.

"Phryne," He whispered, almost as if he were praying.

"Please, Jack."

"Phryne, I-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but we'd had an idea." Lydia called out before stepping into Jack's office. I made to step back, but Jack's hands held my hips tightly and his embrace wouldn't allow it. Not that I was complaining. It was for his sake I'd thought of it in the first place and if he was all right with this display of affection, I certainly wasn't shy.

"We understand you might wish for some alone time." She commented with a sly smile in my direction that made Jack clear his throat uncomfortably and loosen his grip on me. Well it was too late now. I wasn't moving anywhere.

"We thought perhaps your parents might be convinced to bunk with us."

"It's a very kind gesture, Lydia, but unfortunately my father's past is a bit of a sore spot with most of the hotels in the city, and-"

"Oh nonsense! We were going back to Jack's tonight. There are plenty of bedrooms for two couples, even if it isn't quite as spacious and stunning as your own home, well, I think they could be convinced." I looked at Jack, questioningly.

"If it can be managed, I must admit, there is much for Phryne and I to still discuss and the privacy would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes. Conversation. That's what we all are thinking." She shook her head teasingly at her son who was now flushing a bright shade of pink, before stepping back.

"Well, Dorothy?"

"Cec and Burt are transporting them now, Mrs. Robinson. I'd suggest the two of you get a quick cab and beat them there."

"Right you are, dear."

"Well then! Your parents are en route to Jack's bungalow, so we must be off as well." She quickly kissed my cheek as she squeezed Jack's shoulder. "I can't tell you how thrilled I am at your engagement. We'll celebrate soon, my dear." And just like that, they were all gone, leaving me alone with my fiance. I almost purred at that. Fiance. Jack Robinson was my fiance.

 _My fiance's_ hands were still on my hips and I leaned into him slightly, allowing the heat of him to warm me deliciously.

"You said you'd marry me." He murmured, looking at me in awe.

"You asked." I smirked. "You once said it would take a brave man to propose to me. I'm glad you found the courage."

"Perhaps I was just being foolish." He teased, his lips pressing a quick kiss to my throat before his head retreated back to a position from which we could continue conversing.

"Brave or foolish, you did it. And I like to reward people who are bravely foolish." I said, biting my lip as I gazed at him. I watched him swallow deeply and I took another step into his embrace, pressing against him and feeling the beginning of an obvious arousal.

"My darling Phryne." He whispered before I took his lower lip between my teeth. I didn't spend long ravishing his lips. I had other matters to see to. I'd fantasized about this desk we were leaning against for some time now, and it would be a wasted evening alone if we didn't play out at least one of those fantasies. I made quick work of his suit coat and shirt buttons, barely taking note of the fact that he was working on my clothing just as fast. His chest bare to me now, I took my time, peppering kisses down him, lowering myself along with my lips until I knelt as his feet, using his suit coat as a cushion for my knees. "Phryne, you don't-"

"When have you ever known me to do something I don't want to do? Jack. I actually am quite looking forward to taking you in my mouth, to tasting you, to feeling you pulse down my throat-" I was cut off by his deep groan, his eyes closing for a moment. I took the opportunity to pull down his trousers and smalls in one fell swoop, exposing his proud, erect cock. Wrapping my fingers around his base, and pressing my lips against his tip, my tongue poked out to taste the drops of liquid which were amassing there. His taste was so singular, so heightened. He was more than just a man I wanted to fuck. He was my soulmate, my best friend, and the love of my life. It made the sex... more. It made everything, just, _more._

 _"Phyne."_ He groaned out his hands holding up his weight on his desk as he leaned back into it, the wood creaking a bit with the shift in weight. I had a lot of plans for that desk. It had damn well hold up. I wrapped my tongue around his width as much as I could, and worked my lips back and forth, starting slowly and taking more and more of him in with every swipe. my hands went to work on the rest of him, making up for what my mouth wasn't prepared to handle just yet. I moaned around him, sending vibrations through my lips, a trick I'd learned from a young duchess I'd met who had a reputation not unlike mine. We'd spent a while comparing techniques and giving tips where we could before finding a pair of gentlemen to try our new tricks on.

"Phryne, don't... I'm so close. If I cum I won't be able to-" I smiled. He knew damn well he could make me cum without an erect cock and I was happy to play out another scenario I'd had in mind for that desk, so instead of slowing down as he suggested, I sped up my ministrations, preparing myself for the grand finale, and a trick I hadn't done since Paris. I took a deep breath through my nostrils and relaxed my throat as much as I could before swallowing him down, pulling him in all the way. I glanced up and saw his eyes going wide for a moment before his face, along with the rest of his body, convulsed suddenly. Hot threads of his liquid poured down my throat and I continued to swallow (and choke a bit if I was being honest, I hadn't taken this much of a man down my throat for a long time after all) around him, milking him for every last drop. When he finally recovered enough to remove himself from me, I took a deep breath, grinning with a sense of accomplishment that wasn't unlike what I felt when I solved a case first.

"You just..." I took his hand and rose to my feet, licking my lips for any spare _Jack_ before dignifying his utterance with a response. "I could see..."

"What could you see, Inspector?" I asked proudly.

"My cock. Down your throat."

"Yes, well I couldn't quite see it myself, this room really could do with some mirrors Jack, but the feeling," I bit my lip and sighed. "You won't mind if I do that again, sometime, will you?" His answer was naught but a growl as he gripped the back of my head and pulled me in for a ferocious kiss.

"I'm not ready to..." He said quietly, only a bit hard against me now.

"That was my intention."

"To unman me?" I scoffed.

"You're being utterly ridiculous. There was nothing 'unmanly' about what just happened." He smirked and I found it to be a good look on him. I ran my hands over his chest before continuing speaking. "Rather, I have a fantasy I thought we might enact." He opened his mouth but seemed to choke on unspoken words a moment before finally just smiling and swallowing.

"I very nearly just said _anything,_ but fiance or not, I'm not sure I should give you that much leeway, Miss Fisher." He said, amending his silent statement. I grinned before walking past him and perching on my desk in my usual spot.

"It's nothing terribly obscene, well, it is, but I think it's still within your wheelhouse Inspector." I pulled my skirt up around my hips, and opened my legs up, propping one on the arm rest of his chair. "Return the favor?" I asked, leaning back and resting my own hands on his desk, knocking something no doubt important to the floor with a swoosh of air and a low _thwacking_ noise. He didn't even bat an eye. In an instant, he sat in his chair, pulling himself between my legs purposefully, and looking up in my eyes hungrily. His face was just above my own nether regions and I knew he could smell my desperation for him from there. Placing his hands on my thighs, he frowned, pulling at my stockings. In an instant which made me gasp, he pulled at them with such force, they ripped open, allowing his hands to touch me, skin on skin. With a cocky smile that was nothing less than infections, he wrapped his arms around my legs to hold me in place, and gripped my thighs where he had ripped open the thin fabric before devilishly holding eye contact, lowering himself to press his lips against my cunt.

And then... he did nothing. His light evening scruff itched deliciously against my skin and the pressure of his face there was... if I hadn't been wet before (and I most certainly had been) I would be now. He adjusted himself a few times and I realized that he was _nuzzling_ me. It was... romantic. Only Jack Robinson could make cunnilingus romantic. And it was, truly romantic, and heart warming, something even Dot might be able to get behind... until the moment that it wasn't.

That moment occurred a millisecond after his tongue darted out from between his lips, and lapped at my clit the way a cat laps at milk. My weight fell into my arms, and I had to focus on propping myself up, knowing I was at risk for collapsing at the touch of him against me. He was working quickly, his fingers pressing tightly into the skin of my thighs, his tongue licking and stimulating the outside of my... oh. Oh God. The inside.

His tongue was inside me now, pulsing and pulling at me, riding me of comprehensible thought. His nose pushed at that external sweet spot as his tongue met my throbbing pussy with a new movement every second.

"Oh God!" I heard my own voice wail, my eyes darting down to watch him visibly enjoying the act. "Yes!" I screamed, uncaring if anyone heard, a desperate need to articulate the overwhelming sensations Jack was pulling from my core. "Don't stop!" I begged, knowing he wasn't planning on it in the slightest. "Please! Yes, Jack!" My voice was growing higher with each keening scream and in a moment, I had turned from yelling out his name, begging him, to just moaning with pleasure, screaming out inarticulate sounds which seemed to better describe what Jack was doing to me.

He hummed. The bastard hummed. I didn't have time to be pleased that he seemed to be taking cues from my own pleasure giving because the vibration of his nose against my clit and his lips against my lips, not to mention the swipe of his tongue around the inside of my cunt was too much. My head thrown back, I screamed his name as my body shook and a flash of lights behind my eyelids all but blinded me.

His tongue didn't stop its assault inside me, and no more did he stop stimulating me throughout my orgasm. He pushed, and pulled, and rubbed every ounce of cum out of me, as I shook for him, longer, and longer still. He was prolonging this for me and he was doing a damned good job of it. When finally the shaking stopped, he slowed his movements, allowing me to enjoy the last few aftershocks without distraction. Slowly he slid up the desk, taking me in his arms.

"We should probably head home." He murmured in my ear, kissing my temple as I carefully shifted my dress back in place. The stockings were utterly un-repairable, but it was late enough and dark enough that no one was bound to notice my bare legs on the walk from the station to the car, or from the car up my front walkway home. Home. Our home. Home to where Jack and I would begin our lives together. Also home to that very large, very soft, bed upstairs where perhaps I could convince my fiance to give it another go.

"Probably." I murmured, still catching my breath. "But you'll have to give a girl a moment to-" I froze. Oh God. That was it. "...cuff links."

"Give a girl a moment to cuff links. Yes. that makes a load of sense. Am I to take it that you've just solved our case?" I grinned at him.

"I think I have a very good idea of what is going on, yes." I breathed.

"Good." Jack replied. "You can tell me all about it in the morning."

"In the-"

"Yes." He cut in with such force and sincerity that I didn't even question it. "In the morning. But I'll be damned if I let solving a case get in the way of ravishing my fiance on my own time. Especially when we've already put in overtime and found City South a new dead body. A body, which I might add, will wait until the morning. Right this moment, I fully intend to drive well over the legal limit, get you inside our home, and ravish you senseless." His eyes bored into mine and I could feel my heart hitching at his gaze.

"Tomorrow morning it is, then."


	21. A Theory About Cuff Links

Back at 221B the Esplanade, Jack and I were taking full advantage of our solitude and had made as much of a racket as we wanted. Solving the case, that was. After pouring some whiskey for the pair of us, I led him to my desk and provided him with a notepad. I knew he liked to write things down to fully grasp them. Taking my place perched on the edge of his writing space, I spoke through my theory.

"The cuff links were new, Jack. Someone bought them just for this murder."

"Reasoning." He demanded, writing down my words as I spoke.

"Graves' had his own cuff links shoved into his mouth after he'd been long dead _and_ washed up. It was a message to someone, even if we don't know who is sending or receiving such a message, it is certainly a message. Yes?" Jack nodded and motioned for me to continue. "That man in the water was a ragamuffin if I ever saw one. His clothes were torn and I'll be damned if he ever thought about owning a french cut shirt. He didn't own cuff links. He would have no place to wear such a thing. And they looked flawless! If a man like that _did_ own cuff links, an heirloom, a foolish purchase, they'd be dented and dinged halfway to Asia, they wouldn't be that flawless. Besides." I paused dramatically. "They perfectly fit a design that was only released a few weeks ago at Dameon's downtown."

"And you know that how, Miss Fisher?"

"Because your mother and sister went there around then and were gifted a catalog to replace the cuff links they said they were after, and we went over it together. It was a brand new design, mounded gold. Simple, modern, and the catalog had a release date written next to it. Last Thursday."

"Well that's cheating."

"How so?" I replied, indignantly.

"Neither you, my mother, nor my sister shred this catalog with me."

"As if you tell me every detail of your cases!" His eyes widened and he gaped at me suddenly.

"The nephew."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I forgot to tell you... a man came into the station yesterday. Said he'd seen something suspicious but he didn't want to get mixed up so he kept it all to himself, but it had been bothering him, disturbed, he called it, and said he had to get it off his chest so he could go back to his life."

"What?" I cawed. "That's quite a thing to 'forget to tell me', Jack Robinson! You owe me!"

"We can discuss pricing at a later time, my dear." He replied wryly. "He said he saw a man come up through the crowd, as if he knew what he'd find when he got there, and lean down and fiddle with the dead man's sleeves. Some woman fainted then, and so he was distracted, but when he turned around to tell the block to head off, and to leave the body for the police, the person was gone."

"And I take it his description matched the nephew?"

"More than that. He saw a photo of the nephew in the paper the next day. Positive ID."

"Young Mr. Graves did not deny that he had already heard of his uncle's death. He even admitted that he'd gone to see the body on the beach when a maid came shrieking in with the news. This additional information doesn't even place him as a liar, but..."

"He didn't mention touching the victim. He said he was so sickened by the sight he had been forced to leave immediately to retch and that the police had been and left by the time he felt well enough to return, his uncle's body gone. He had then gone home to right himself and hadn't even thought to go to the police until the constable demanded his presence." I rolled my eyes. At the time I had done the same. It was astounding how stupid people were sometimes. When you're involved with a dead body - particularly the dead body of a relative, you should always go to the police! It was mind boggling how often people didn't think of that.

"This fits in with my theory!"

"Go on."

"Those cuff links in our new victim were new. They were bought to send a message but if it were the same killer sending the same message, surely he would have been prepared before last Thursday at the earliest? Surely he would have had some other cuff links that wouldn't be so easily traceable when no more than a few dozen men could possibly have purchased that particular set yet?"

"Perhaps he's an idiot?"

"Or, perhaps it was rushed. Thrown together."

"A copycat? Or an attempt to throw us off with a second body?"

"A response."

"Sorry?"

"A response, Jack, the first pair were so deliberately placed after the dead body had been washed up, but the second had pierced his tongue, ensuring that they would stay there after floating around the sound for days. They were placed differently, by different people. Mr. Graves was killed and a message about his death sent. This new body, another message. Back to Mr. Grave's nephew, or whomever demanded he move the cuff links."

"This is all merely a guess, Phryne. The pieces fit but so would a dozen others."

"I admit it's a guess, but it's more of a guess than what we've have before. And my guesses, as you know, are often rather close to the truth."

"I blame your vivid imagination."

"Blame what you will, I think it's a different murderer. And I think this overkill was meant to signify that the body was related to Mr. Graves in the first place. A signal that these murders were related so that the messengers could catch wind of it at all. Drowned, a knife in the chest, and a fishing spear sticking out of his head? How different is that from drowned, a stab _wound_ in his torso, and some sort of slicing through a neck?" Jack frowned.

"Not just some sort of stabbing..." He muttered, his fingers sketching something out on the wood of the desk.

"The fishing spear that was stuck in our new victim's head... it has a narrow shaft and a narrow spear end, but it isn't the universal design. If a spear had an arrow shaped spear head, a wider model, used for large fish..." He trailed off and looked intently at his notes. "A shot at the head, if it missed but just by a bit, if it hit the neck at the right angle, it could potentially decapitate someone."

"Or nearly decapitate them."

"The range would have needed to be close, for force like that, to slice through so much, esophagus, windpipe, skin, and blood, and not get jammed, to not get stuck in side but to cut cleanly through-"

"It missed the spinal column completely, a person at any range isn't likely to be able to completely impale bone and have the entire spear keep flying. The again, the handles on wider spears are long, even if the spear head had made it through his neck, would it have been impeded enough to keep the device stuck? Did someone go in to retrieve the spear?"

"Maybe? Or he was floating around enough that it was dislodged and separated from the corpse."

"In which case the spear is still in the bay."

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, loosing a curled strand from it's pomade prison and I grinned. Not that I didn't like buttoned up Inspector Robinson. I just liked that I got to see relaxed, _un_ buttoned Jack when everyone else did not.

"Its a theory Phryne. A _good_ theory." He amended instantly, seeing my expression. "But..."

"It's a lot of moving parts. The only part that isn't swirling around aimlessly seems to be the nephew. Shall we bring him in?"

"Sure. When you find where he's holed up, let me know will you? Then I can fire the four constables who are currently sussing him out."

"There will be no need to fire anyone. It isn't their fault that it takes time to learn." I kissed his cheek and leaped to my feet. Besides, you've just given me an excellent task for tomorrow!" He groaned and buried his face in one hand.

"What have I done?" He teased. I only laughed.

"Come." I took his hand and led him towards my staircase. "As fascinating as it was to watch you use my desk for a change, I have another piece of furniture I'd like you to claim."

"How so?" He asked, allowing me to drag him.

"By fucking your fiance on it, of course." I grinned lasciviously at him and broke off into a run, laughing gaily.

He ran after me, laughing alongside me, pulling his outer layers of clothes off as we ran. I hoped it would always be like this. Him and me against the world. Always solving crimes together. Always desperate to be touching skin on skin. Even if it wasn't always quite so desperate, though, I knew we would be all right. Even if our bodies stopped wanting each other so much, my soul would always cry out for it's partner. My Jack.

* * *

 **Okay so it got a bit cheesy at the end but ignore that a minute... initially I had a plan for these murders, but somewhere around my second massive break I completely forgot what that was. I used my own detective skills, the clues PastElsa laid for us, and attempted to come up with a theory. Thoughts? Does it make sense? PLEASE review and PM!**

 **Also, I'm going to try REALLY REALLY HARD to keep up with this story and not let you all down with another de facto hiatus due to my inability to focus.**

 **Also, ALSO - should I write the smut scene that follows this one, or would you rather I stick to some more plot?**

 **xoxo - E**


	22. A Secret

**A/N: I'm so sorry about what's been going on with the formatting on here! As my apology to all of you for all the runaround on here... here's a new chapter! As an apology to all of you for all of this, and for it having been forever since I've actually updated, I sat down and used my best detecting skills to actually plot out what happened to our dearly departed Mr. Graves, and his new, thus far nameless friend. Now I won't just be winging it... I have a plan! Woohoo! I hope it makes sense to someone other than me:) So... without further ado...**

* * *

 **Jack Robinson**

My fiancé. She was _my fiancé._ Phryne Fisher had gone and said she would marry me. I wasn't sure what sort of world this was, where something as extraordinary as that was an occurrence, but I never wanted to close my eyes again, not when this reality was so much more than my best dreams. Phryne Fisher was my fiancé, and soon enough she would be my wife. Not that I expected her to do any sort of 'wifely' things. It was going to be no different than our relationship now. Except that we would live together... probably here, she had a great attachment to this house and I had no aversion to it. I would get to wake up every morning to her snoring. I grinned. She could deny it all she liked, but I was listening to the evidence right this very moment. I reached out and stroked her hair, trying to memorize the sound of her not at all soft snores. It was hilarious, actually. The most feminine person I knew, and she snored like an old man, deep and loud. So, _so_ loud. My fiancé, snored loudly. I quite liked that odd little sentence. Our relationship wasn't going to change. It wasn't like when I married Rosie, and we both pretended, badly, I might add, that we knew how to live with each other, and be good spouses to one another, and she hired help to teach her how to properly cook, and I worked hard to rise in rank and paycheck to provide for her, not because either of us particularly wanted to learn to cook, or get that promotion, but because we thought that was what husbands and wives did. There would be none of that here. We would be married. And the biggest actual change that would cause in our relationship, would be that I would be Jane's stepfather. She seemed pleased enough... but I would have to sit down with her and ask her what she would like our relationship to look like. She was the closest thing I would ever have to a child of my own, and I wished to treat her as I would my own child, but I didn't want to overstep any bounds, and try to force myself into her life. However she wanted to do this, that would be how it would go. And as for everything else... it didn't matter. We could figure it out as we went along. Phryne and I were good at that. So long as we had each other, we could face what was ahead.

A loud snort made me almost laugh out loud. I chuckled quietly to myself as I pulled my fiancé into my arms, and kissed the spot just behind her ear.

"I love you." I whispered to her softly.

"Mmmb." She muttered back in her sleep. One more kiss, and I closed my eyes, allowing sleep to claim me once more.

* * *

"What do you mean, you can't find him?" Phryne asked Constable Jones sharply. "You had a watch on his home. He was seen entering just last evening and now... he what? Disappeared into thin air? He lives in the city, he can hardly have just escaped into the outback."

"Darling, I think what Constable Jones is trying to say is we have a mystery on our hands! Now who is it I know who loves to solve those, hmm?" I teased her, biting back my grin, forcing a mock serious expression on my face. She rolled her eyes at me and replied tersely.

"You don't think two dead bodies is enough a mystery for me just now?"

"But my dear, you already mostly solved those! Jones and his friends thought you could use a little extra amusement."

"I know you think you're funny Jack Robinson, but I'll have you know I had plans for the completion of this case that involved some custom made lingerie, so you just keep going on about how amused you are by every road block and delay." Constable Jones was flushing a bright red now, and the old Jack would have been a mixture of mortified and angry at the admission, but Phryne's fiancé Jack was far too happy to be upset by much of anything these days.

"Well. We can't have that. Jones, you heard the lady, she and I have celebratory plans in the making for the culmination of this case. I suggest you and your peers get a move on and find Mr. Cedric Graves."

"Yes, sir." He stuttered, all but running away the moment it was appropriate to leave.

"It's not nice of you to torment them like that, darling." Her eyes flashed with mischief.

"Oh he wasn't my target." She replied loftily, reaching out and running her nails down my jaw line. "I really have put in an order with my favorite modiste. A lot of lace, and not much else, to be honest, but if the reality looks anything as good as the designs on paper, its worth the exorbitant price tag."

"Phryne,"

"You can 'Phryne', me all you like now Inspector. It'll be good practice for what name you'll be calling out when we put the finished product to use." She grew closer and I saw the flash of dark in her eyes, probably reflecting the desire in my own. She leaned in for a kiss but stopped just short. "Of course that won't happen until we solve this case..." And with that she quickly deviated her course of motioned, planted a soft kiss on my cheek, grabbed her clutch and with a wink and a wave, traipsed out of my office, leaving me with the quite the situation in the front of my trousers.

* * *

"Collins." I called out as I stepped out of my office later that morning. "Where are we at in tracking down the nephew?"

"Mr. Graves, that is Mr. Cedric Graves is still... well we haven't found him yet, sir. But his vehicles are all at home, and he hasn't been seen at any train station in the area."

"Having seen him in a cravat, I doubt he's the type to go on walkabout in his Italian leather shoes. He may have begged a ride out of town from a friend. Let's see if any of the friends or neighbors have seen him since we last had eyes on him.

"Yes sir." I turned back towards my office, ready to grab my coat and hat. I had a pregnant lover to find. No! Not like... Mr. Cedric Graves' pregnant lover. She might know where he'd flee to. "Sir?"

"Yes, Collins?"

"Well, ah... Congratulations, sir."

"Sorry?"

"On the engagement, to, to Miss Phry- to Miss Fisher, sir. Congratulations." I couldn't help smiling in reaction to his comment.

"Thank you, Collins. I expect I'll see you at the 'surprise' engagement party your wife is hosting this evening." He flushed.

"How did you-"

"Mrs. Collins has not always been the best at keeping her employer in the dark, shall we say." I returned with a smile. "Don't worry. We'll act surprised. Dot won't have a clue we knew." His relief was palpable.

"Thank you sir. She does wish it to be a surprise, you see and-"

"No explanations necessary, Collins. As I said. We will be the picture of surprised."

"Very good, sir. And yes, sir, I'll be there. Along with half the station and their spouses."

"Now that would have been a surprise." He flushed again and suddenly looked horrified that he'd let anything slip.

"I didn't- that is-"

"I'm glad to know. Never much liked surprises." Constable Jones snorted at the comment and I turned towards him. "Something funny, Jones?"

"Never much liked surprises, and yet you're marrying Miss Fisher? Sir I'm not so sure you've thought that through." I chuckled at that.

"You have a point, Jones. Alas, I think she may just be worth it."

"Indeed sir. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Jones."

* * *

When I arrived at the bungalow belonging to our expecting friend, a Miss Anne Tram, I wasn't that surprised to fine Miss Fisher's car in the street. I was a bit surprised to see my sister and mother's silhouettes through the window at her side. Of course she had dragged them into this. Although they hadn't required much dragging into this case. If I wasn't careful, solving crimes was going to become the family business a bit more than I had initially thought when I had asked Phryne to marry me. I waited outside for no more than a minute before making my way to the front door of the small rundown Collingwood home Mr. Graves had been renting for her since he had found out the news of her condition. As it was, it was a good thing I did pause to collect myself, as I hadn't even reached the front stoop when my fiancé, mother, and sister all exited the abode.

"Done already?" I asked. "Need I even ask any of the questions I've been thinking up on the way over?"

"No." Liz said cheerfully. "That girl has nothing to hide and even if she did, Miss Fisher had her singing like a canary."

"Lizzy dear, she's a victim in all of this not a perpetrator. She needn't hide anything. Although your sister does bring up an excellent point, Jack. She was entirely too helpful, given that she knows I'm directly involved with the police. She's covering something up."

"What?" Liz and my mother both all but shouted. Hmm. Maybe they weren't as ready to be detectives as I had initially feared.

"So do you reckon it's love of Cedric which provokes her to cover up the truth, or something else entirely?"

"I get the feeling it's rather the opposite. She seems rather... perturbed, at Cedric to be honest. She hasn't heard from him since the poor boy found out he was soon to be a father. It was the uncle, as you recall, who intended to actually do something for her, I think her loyalty is to him."

"Then why would she try to stop us from finding his killer."

"It could implicate him in some way?" Phryne suggested. "After all she's clearly still profiting from him." She gestured to the home behind us. "I spoke to the landlady on the way in, her rent was paid up not two days ago for the next month, well after Mr. Graves met his untimely end. When I asked her who was caring for her now, she bristled and made some comment about Mr. Graves' generosity providing for her longer than a month by month basis which of course contradicts the landlady entirely."

"And then there's that shinny new bracelet on her arm." My mother added wryly.

"You noticed that too?" Phryne asked her, pleased. "Yes, she kept fiddling with it, it's clearly a new addition to her wardrobe, and whenever we asked anything about Mr. Graves the elder she'd glance down at it."

"I've a feeling its a match to whomever made those custom cuff links." Phryne nodded wildly at my mother's supposition.

"I thought the same. Only why? Why would someone give her something when Graves had died? There's no way he had her factored into his will so readily. It had been only a month or so since he'd found out about her situation. I doubt he'd have prepared for her in the eventuality of his death in so short an acquaintance."

"No, but if someone is buying her silence, and it isn't the nephew, than who else is so mixed up in all of this? Whomever killed that poor soul the night of your engagement, perhaps? They have clearly got some skin in the game, and if we discover what happened to Mr. Graves, it might lead us back to them. They could be trying to cover it up."

"We need to find Cedric Graves." Phryne stated. my mother and Liz nodded stoically before turning to me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I involved in this investigation? I assumed I was just here to be the good looking side kick."

"You are." Liz and mum said simultaneously as Phryne burst out laughing.

"Come on. Let's meet back at the station, we can see what Jones and Collins have found, and work from there."

"Indeed, but perhaps I could convince you to allow my mother - an excellent driver, by the way - to transport your car back. We have things to discuss on the way.

"What things?" Phryne asked, her curiosity peaked.

"All manner of things."

"Give me an example." She insisted, perturbed by my purposeful evasiveness.

"Your aunt called. She'd like to know the date of the wedding."

* * *

 **A/N: PLEASE REVIEW!**


	23. Jane

**Poll time: What kind of wedding do you think Phryne and Jack should have?**

 **Sorry it's so short, but I wanted to get you the update so I split this chappie into two. This half is mostly fluffy so here's to all my romanticist readers!**

* * *

 **Jack Robinson**

"Your aunt called. She'd like to know the date for the wedding." Her initial pause was followed by one of the most genuine smiles I had ever been fortunate to see grace her lips.

"Lydia, dear, you don't mind driving, do you?" Phryne asked my mother over her shoulder, her eyes never leaving mine and that soft smile never leaving her lips.

"Not at all." Phryne took my arm with a grin and allowed me to escort her to the passenger door of my police car. "Wedding date, huh?" She murmured, her voice lifting along with my spirits. "Already sick of being my fiancé?"

"Nonsense. Just impatient to call you wife." I returned. I reveled for a moment in darkening of her eyes as I spoke and I wondered if her reaction was due more to my words or my voice.

"In that case we may as well not waste any time." She took my proffered hand to assist her into the front seat of my car.

"Fine by me, I'll drive us to the courthouse right now." She laughed gaily and allowed me to close the door behind her before hastening around to my own seat.

"If I thought you meant it I'd say yes and we'd be married in an hour's time, Jack Robinson. But I know damn well that you aren't about to do any of that without your family by your side." I smiled sheepishly. She knew me too well. And probably also knew that my mother would be heartbroken.

"I'm sure you want some time to prepare as well. Knowing you we'll need months for whatever custom garment you intend to wear for this blessed event to be made."

"That does bring us to another point, Jack." She said, her hand resting on my thigh familiarly as I started up the engine and eased the car into drive. "What kind of wedding do you want? I'm not the sort of girl whose been dreaming of this day forever so unlike my dear, Dot, I don't have every detail planned already."

"Not every detail suggests you do have some details planned, my dear. Why don't you tell me about that first?"

"Dot and Mac can be my witnesses. And Jane aught to have a large role. I'm not sure flower girl will do it, she means far too much to me to just let her have a decorative roll, especially if we don't plan the traditional wedding and we just do this in a courthouse as you suggested. Either way, nothing I think of seems to be enough."

"I'd actually given that a bit of thought. Obviously you don't have to take this suggestion, but I thought maybe... Maybe Jane could give you away. I doubt you'd want your father to do it, all things considered, and it's her blessing I'm after far more than anyone else's as it'll be her life that's changing by all this and-"

"Jack Robinson that's absolutely perfect!" Phryne exclaimed. "Shall we ask her today?"

"This evening sounds perfect. Perhaps I could treat the pair of you to dinner and ask then?"

"We would be delighted!" Phryne's eyes shone in excitement. "Nothing too fancy."

"For dinner?"

"No, the wedding."

"Ah. Pity you feel that way. I was hoping to arrive in a carriage drawn by 12 matching stallions." I returned loftily, stealing a glance at her, and reveling in the laugh which followed.

"12! No. Nothing more than 10 each. I want this to be small, mind you, so we will have to keep the guest list to 500." I sighed mournfully at her comment.

"If you insist, my dear." She laughed again, her fingers running along the edges of my palm.

"But in all seriousness, the wedding... it's not a big deal to me so I will happily defer to you on most of the preparations. It's not the wedding, I want Jack Robinson, it's you. It's the marriage." I smiled softly, swallowing before I spoke.

"Rosie and I had the perfect wedding. It was... the first time my name appeared in the society pages." I glanced sidelong at her. "Though as it turned out, it was certainly not the last." I shook my head remembering. "It was a grand affair, planned down to the last detail, everything _just so_. When I heard what it had cost Sanderson months later I nearly choked on my tea. I think it's a number that would shock even you. It was a perfect wedding. The marriage, of course, left an awful lot to be desired."

"The only thing that needs to be just so at this wedding is us. As long as you're the groom and I'm the bride and no one dies in the middle of it, I think we can count it a success. And Rosie Sanderson can judge me all she likes and think she's won the prize for better wedding, but I'll have won the real prize and that's the rest of my life with the perfect man, so there." I looked at her in earnest. She was staring straight at the road ahead, her eyes full of determination, and I realized for a moment that she was in all seriousness.

"Are you... I can't think of the verb. Why..."

"Jealous. The word you are looking for is jealous. Or perhaps competitive. Either way. And to answer the question, I am neither jealous nor in competition with Rosie Sanderson. I am simply... slightly intimidated by her, to be entirely honest, and worried that she's always going to see me as the woman who tore apart her marriage to the best of men." I paused before replying, shocked to hear that she even understood the meaning of the word intimidated. This was Phryne Fisher after all.

"Phryne, I... Our marriage had been dead long before I met you. Rosie may have blamed you once, but I was very clear with her about the reality of events. She knows as well as anyone that you had nothing to do with the dissolution of my wedding vows. And I very much doubt that she considers me the best of men, as you suggest. You've no reason to be intimidated by her in the least. _You_ have no reason to be intimidated by anyone."

"I... I just wish..." She shrugged. "You're going to be my husband. And I just mean about the wedding. I know her, she'll judge our simple affair but that's just why I want to keep it simple. I don't want her to think I'm trying to show her up. I don't care a fig about the wedding so long as I get you in the end." I pulled into my usual parking spot outside the station but instead of opening my door, I leaned over to her and took her hands in mine.

"Of this I can vow right now, Phryne Fisher. You get me. Forever. I am yours, body and soul, and whatever we decide about this wedding, our _marriage_ will be nothing short of perfect."

"Perfect?" Her eyes narrowed. "Have you met us? We're going to fight like cats and dogs every day, you know that."

"Oh most certainly. Sometimes more than once a day, and about a myriad of topics we haven't even thought of yet, but you love me, and there isn't a person alive who loves another the way I love you, so even when we're fighting, we will be so in love, and our marriage, will be the envy of all. And as I already swore to you, we will be nothing like your parents."

"We can be like your parents, if you like."

"Even better." She narrowed her eyes at me.

"I'm not sure that's possible Jack."

"Oh ye of little faith. Just you wait and see. They're going to write stories about us. They're going to write sagas about how incredible our marriage is."

"Sagas." She commented, biting back a smile.

"Sagas. Just you wait and see, Phryne Fisher." I leaned forward and kissed her soundly, only stopping when the sound of someone pounding on the glass of my car alerted us to the presence of a viewing party.

"When you two are quite finished," Liz called out, laughing uncontrollably. "We've got a murder to solve!" Phryne laughed and pulled away after another quick press of her lips against mine.

"She's got a point. We can finish this later." Her eyebrow rose suggestively. Damn. Now I had a situation to hide from my mother and sister. It had been one heated kiss and an eye raise! This was going to be a _long_ marriage if I got this excited at so little provocation. A damn good one though, I thought with a smirk as I exited my car, leading Liz and my mum into the station, Phryne fixing hair in the car mirror before she followed.

* * *

 **Phryne**

If past Phryne could see me now... waxing poetic about a man - just the one man - and excitedly talking of our upcoming wedding... I don't think she would have believed it. And yet, here I was, my heart pounding just a little bit faster at the thought of marrying Jack. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. And hell if I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life, wasted in him. He was my world. My everything. My...

"Jack?" I called out. That man. I had seen him before. In fact... now that I thought on it... I had been seeing him everywhere lately. Walking a dog by my house several times a day. Down in Collingwood when Liz, and Lydia, and I stopped in this very morning. At lunch two days ago. At... at the beach the day Mr. Graves washed up on shore.

"I wouldn't call again, Miss Fisher." A gruff voice spoke quietly in my ear. Before I could turn my head to see the speaker, the cold chill of a knife pressed tightly against my neck. I swallowed, and I could feel it pierce my skin every so slightly. "We're going to need you to come with us."

"Not very likely." I managed to growl out, hoping the words sounded far more confident then I felt saying them.

"I'm afraid I must insist."

"And what makes you think I'll come quietly?" I asked, my eyes darting around, hoping Jack would stick his head back out the door, wondering what was taking me so long.

"One word, Miss Fisher.

"Just the one? You don't think you'll need a few more to-"

"Jane."


	24. Panic at 221B

_Review:_

 _"Jack?" I called out. That man. I had seen him before. In fact... now that I thought on it... I had been seeing him everywhere lately. Walking a dog by my house several times a day. Down in Collingwood when Liz, and Lydia, and I stopped in this very morning. At lunch two days ago. At... at the beach the day Mr. Graves washed up on shore._

 _"I wouldn't call again, Miss Fisher." A gruff voice spoke quietly in my ear. Before I could turn my head to see the speaker, the cold chill of a knife pressed tightly against my neck. I swallowed, and I could feel it pierce my skin every so slightly. "We're going to need you to come with us."_

 _"Not very likely." I managed to growl out, hoping the words sounded far more confident then I felt saying them._

 _"I'm afraid I must insist."_

 _"And what makes you think I'll come quietly?" I asked, my eyes darting around, hoping Jack would stick his head back out the door, wondering what was taking me so long._

 _"One word, Miss Fisher._

 _"Just the one? You don't think you'll need a few more to-"_

 _"Jane."_

* * *

 **Jack Robinson**

What was taking her so long? She had been right behind me. She had been... I shook my head, ridding myself of the odd apprehension that was filling my gut with every passing second that she didn't walk through that door. She had probably... run into an old friend on the sidewalk, there had been half a dozen people roaming the street, she was bound to know one of them. Or perhaps her heal had gotten stuck in a grate. Unlikely, but an amusing anecdote if it were the case. She probably just needed a hand with her apparel. Or an out to avoid a long conversation without seeming rude. I would just stick my head out the door, and ask what was taking so long. I would tease her about this as soon as she got in. She would look at me with that mixture of exasperation and amusement. I pushed open the door and scanned the street in front of the station. She was no where to be seen. But her shoe lay discarded on the ground, not 10 feet from where I'd seen her last. My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach and I suddenly felt like I couldn't breath. She was gone. Someone had taken her. And I had been less than a minute away from being able to stop the whole thing.

* * *

 **Phryne Fisher**

The two rather putrid gentlemen who flanked me rather closely didn't seem to notice that I had kicked off a shoe yet. Maybe it wouldn't seem significant to them. Something that had fallen at some point. Not a signal to my prince that Cinderella was in distress. I turned my nose up at that. The symbolism was rather upsetting, I wasn't exactly the Cinderella archetype, but... Jack would know something was wrong the moment he saw my shoe, and as such, it was unavoidable. An hour. We'd now been driving an entire damn hour, but... the odd thing was, we weren't leaving Victoria. It was almost as if we were just going in circles. At one point we had pulled into an alley way and I had been pushed out one door only to be shuffled into another car and the circling game had begun anew. This new car had window coverings, but I could still see out the front window, and our path to wherever we were going didn't cease to be repetitive and full of pointless circling.

"Any word on where I'm being taken at present, gentlemen?" I asked finally with a huff on annoyance. Silence. "May I remind you that I came with you quite willingly, and if it guarantees the safety of my daughter, I am more than willing to be on your side in whatever this is. I can't very well do that if I don't know what's going on."

"You want to know how to guarantee the safety of that little girl?" The larger of the two turned in his seat and stared me down. "Stop investigating this case. Let it go."

"Of course I can make a promise like that, but I'm not sure it will do you any good at this point."

"Why's that?"

"Well you've just kidnapped the fiancé of the Detective in charge of this case. He's not going to rest until he's got you in his clutches."

"Us?" He laughed without humor and shook his head. "Darling we aren't what you need to worry about."

"You just forced me into your car and are taking me to an undisclosed location."

"We're going to your house. There. Disclosed."

"My... my house? Whatever for? Please. Don't hurt-"

"We're not here to hurt anyone! We're..." The man exhaled violently and looked at me, utter defeat in his eyes. "I did this all wrong. I know I did, but... there wasn't time. And I need your help, Miss Fisher. And I thought maybe saving you might get me your help but..."

"Saving me. You kidnapped me."

"Yeah. Before the bad guys could do it."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's some bad men, all right? They're mixed up in this case you and the Detective are working on and my girl heard word that they were planning on kidnapping you and using you as bait to get the Detective to give himself over so they could... well I don't know the exact plan but I reckon it weren't good, all right? Now, I need your help, and I need the Detective Inspector not to give in and ignore this case."

"Jack is an honorable man. He would never-"

"Don't be a fool. I've seen the way he looks at you. He'd sell his soul to keep you safe. Sell the whole of Australia to the Kaiser if it meant you were safe. So I think to myself, I'm gonna keep her safe, so he can keep his morals and solve the damn thing."

"I don't understand..." I shook my head trying to clear it as best as I could, but it didn't help. "Perhaps you can start at the beginning. Who are you? What's your interest in this case?" I glanced around us as the car slowed to a halt, and before the man could answer, the driver piped up.

"We lost any tail we mighta' picked up when we changed cars, Larry." The driver said, nodding. "Ain't no one gonna know where we're at." Huh. They hadn't been lying. We had pulled into the servants entrance of my own home.

"Shrubs aughta cover her from any neighbors seeing anything when we head inside."

"I can do you one better." I interjected. Maybe it was because I was in my own home and felt I had an advantage regardless, but I had suddenly decided to put a passing amount of trust in these men. Go to that shed and grab out the laundry bin. I fit inside, you can carry me straight in the door. Tell whomever answers that you've a delivery from Miss Fern Earhart and they'll let you in and take you somewhere discreet."

"Er... okay then." The large one - Larry - nodded to the skinny one who had been next to me, largely silent, and he ran out to get the bin." I climbed in and listened intently, as they relayed the message I had said to them to Mr. Butler. Instantly recognizing my code name - and in all likelihood, the clothes basket - he rushed the men inside and within 2 minutes the lid opened and I stood up, stretching out my legs. That had been less comfortable than I had remembered.

"Tea, Miss?"

"Excellent plan, Mr. B! Oh! And if anyone should come acalling I haven't been heard from since I left this morning."

"Very good miss. I'll have tea in the back parlor presently."

"Shall we, gentlemen?" I escorted them in and sat down on a settee. "Now. Why don't you start at the beginning. Who are you, exactly? And what connection do you have to Mr. Graves, and his nameless friend who met the same end?" The one called Larry took a deep breath and began to speak.

* * *

 **Jack Robinson**

My fist beat against the door, urging whomever was inside to run, not walk to answer. Every second counted and I was wasting time here when I should be looking for her. Not that telling her family was wasting time, of course. Obviously Mr. Butler and Dorothy deserved to know immediately, and they would be a great deal of help, along with the Red Raggers, but if her parents were here oh I might not be able to control my tongue at a time like this and-

"For God's sake what's taking so long!" I yelled, pounding harder. The door swung open and a shocked looking Mrs. Collins looked back at me.

"Inspector, whatever is the matter?"

"Phryne's missing." I told her breathlessly, stepping inside, snatching my hat off my head and instantly mutilating it with my hands, nervously twisting this way and that. "She's gone. Someone... someone took her." Mr. Butler emerged from the kitchen slowly - everything was happening far, far too slowly just now, did no one have any sense of urgency? - drying his hands with a towel.

"Did... did you think she was missing or did someone report it?" He asked, his voice sounding rather odd, though if there were a time for the man to be anything less than his usual perfect host it was now.

"I... What? She was behind me and then when I went back to see what was taking her so long, she was gone, and she'd left her shoe. Sign of a struggle."

"Huh." Mrs. Collins said wide eyed - although not very panicked - why was I the only one panicking right now?! My mother and sister had panicked at least a little bit, admittedly less because as they said, it was Phryne she would probably have gotten herself out the mess and made friends with whomever had taken her by the time I found her, but still... more panicked then this lot! And they were Phryne's family! "How... odd... Mr. Butler will you entertain the inspector a moment, or rather... find out what happened? I need to check in on Jane in the back parlor."

"I..." I shook my head, staring at these lunatics as they slowly went about their business rather normally. And slowly! What was going on?!

"Can I get you some tea, Inspector?" Mr. Butler asked pleasantly.

"Can you- no! Did you not hear me, Phryne is missing! She's been taken! Someone has her they... they could... oh God I may be sick."

"I really do think tea might help, and-"

"OH MY GOD I'VE FORGOTTEN TO TELEPHONE JACK, DAMN ALL!" A voice yelled from the other end of the house. I paused. Her voice. That was... that was definitely her voice. She came bursting down the hall and it was all I could do not to fall at her feet and thank whatever deity existed that she was all right before she pulled me into a hug.

"I'm a horrid fiancé, I swear, it completely slipped my mind that you thought I had been kidnapped!"

"You... had you not been?"

"No I was! But it's all right now!"

"You... escaped? And decided to have tea?"

"No! They brought me here. I'm having tea with them in the back now. Please. Join us!"

"Us as in... you and the people who kidnapped you."

"Well they didn't really kidnap me... I mean the did but not like how you're thinking."

"Forgive me, but my police training did not cover a second type of kidnapping where everyone ended up friends over tea at the end, I'll need to offer a refresher course for my men?! Phryne!"

"I am _terribly_ sorry, Jack. But I got so distracted with the case it slipped my mind that I had left my shoe for you to find to know that I had been taken and all... oh no I've made a complete mess of things! Please! Come with me, and we'll explain everything." I could not comprehend what was going on but she had promised answers and so I allowed her to take my hand and pull me towards the hall.

"Mrs. Collins, would you be so kind as to telephone the station and let them know that we've found Phryne safe and sound and that they can call off the search?"

"NO!" Phryne yelled immediately. "Don't do that!"

"PHRYNE THERE ARE NEARLY 100 PEOPLE OUT LOOKING FOR YOU!" I finally bellowed, my heart rate accelerating as the relief of finding her safely at home wore off.

"Good! There are people who need to think I've been kidnapped and am maybe dead."

"What are you talking about?!"

"Come on, Larry will explain."

"Who is Larry?"

"My kidnapper, keep up Jack!"

* * *

 **A/N: Phew! Finally got that chapter out! Tune in to the next chapter to find out who Larry is and why he took Phryne! Also... to find out what the hell is going on! Please review:) xoxo - E**


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